


Yes or No

by LokoteiBex



Category: Tangled (2010), Tangled: The Series (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Fighting, Make up sex, Making Up, Princess vs Person, harsh reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokoteiBex/pseuds/LokoteiBex
Summary: Rapunzel has had to make some difficult choices lately, ones that have led her to choose the welfare of the kingdom over Eugene. With these choices has come the realization that she might not love him as much as she thought she did. How can they reconcile her duty with her feelings, and will they come out as strong on the other side?(Note: Only Chapter 3/Epilogue is explicit and with mature content. If you'd like the meat of the story without the NSFW content, chapters 1 and 2 are perfectly safe.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collaborative roleplay project from Tumblr between myself (runningracingdancingchasing) and Charlie (strawberryfitzsherbert). We’re ongoing RP partners where I play Rapunzel and she plays Eugene. This accounts for the rapid back and forth between characters’ perspectives, and the sometimes backtracking of narration.
> 
> Our canon verse is primarily focused on the events of Tangled the Series, with our own twist on how things might go down. In our shared continuum, Eugene will often send paper gliders up to Rapunzel’s window at night, and she lets her hair down over her balcony to grant him access to her room - a forbidden act, but they ignore the rules in favor of the peace and comfort (and fun) that comes with sharing a bed at night.
> 
> Set between “Queen For a Day and “The Alchemist Returns,” this particular thread started with a string of in-character asks where it came to Rapunzel’s attention that she’d been forced to make a lot of hard decisions lately that affect the kingdom, and that, if push came to shove, her duty requires her to choose the kingdom over Eugene.

Rapunzel wasn’t usually the one to send the paper gliders, but she’d had too much on her mind lately to just let this go any longer. Guilt was gnawing at her, far worse than it had since she’d left the tower for good, and that was saying something.

 

Not only was she having to reconcile her choices, she was having to reconcile her feelings, and those were much harder to face. For days, weeks, she’d felt like she’d swallowed a rock, and it was refusing to leave her stomach. And so, while Eugene was teaching the guards in How To Catch a Thief, she sent him a paper glider, aimed true to brush right past his nose, so he couldn’t possibly miss it.

 

_ Meet me in the vineyard. _

_ Rapunzel ♥ _

 

She liked the vineyard. Acres and acres of vines that could be ducked under to hide and watch the dappled light shine through the leaves. They gave her a sense of seclusion and comfort. And there she waited for Eugene to be done with work, mentally rehearsing what she’d say when she saw him next.

 

Eugene liked his job.

 

Fun as it was swanning about the castle, constantly snacking, bothering Cassandra and basically having absolutely no responsibility, even he had to admit that it got a little old. Having a purpose and the feeling of importance? It was nice. 

 

Well. It was nice until he nearly got hit in the face by something small-ish and white. Bemused, he snatched for the object as it zoomed past his face; his reflexes hadn’t gone totally down the drain, and he caught it, recognising the glider at once. Huh…

 

“ _ Un momento _ , fellas,” he said to the guards in his lesson that day, and peered down at the note. Meet her in the vineyard, huh? For a moment, he was tempted to end the lesson early and just run off to go meet Rapunzel. But no, he  _ really  _ didn’t fancy getting an earful from the Captain - not to mention he was using this role as a way to prove that he was actually useful. 

 

He tucked the note away with a private little smirk, before turning back to continue the lesson. It passed quickly with something to look forward to, and he didn’t even go back to his room to change before strolling off to the vineyard to find her. What on earth did she want to meet in here for? He knew she liked to go there when she wanted to be away from people (him not included). Was something wrong? Or did she just want a typical paper glider meet-up? That’d be more than okay with him.

 

“Rapunzel?” he asked, making his way through the rows and peering around for where she might be.

 

She never  _ had  _ settled on what she was going to say when he arrived. She’d come up with a dozen starters, and gradually realized that all of them put the attention on her, and that was the last things she wanted. It was time to take responsibility for her actions, and to stop throwing herself pity parties. It was time for her to pay more attention to him than to herself.

 

At the sound of Eugene’s voice, her heart began to hammer in her chest and, trembling a little, she crawled out from under the vine she’d been hiding in. She called out, “Here!” so he could find her, but busied herself by brushing off her skirt, holding off the moment just a little longer. Allowed him to go on loving her just a few moments more…

 

His smile was wide at the sound of her voice, looking forward to spending some time with her regardless of what her reason for setting up this little meeting was. Part of him was concerned, if only because she’d been acting sorta odd recently, but he figured it just had something to do with the various pressures she was under. Maybe this was her way of giving herself a minor break from everything. 

 

Following her voice, he rounded the corner and his grin widened at the sight of her. “Hey, Blondie. Way to hijack my lesson back there - I had to dodge all sorts of questions from those guys,” he teased, making his way over to her. “So what are we doing in the vineyard?”

 

Ugh, even in getting his attention, she managed to make it all about herself. She swallowed and closed her eyes a moment, trying to steele her nerves and decide what to say.

Rather than answer his question directly, she launched into it, so to speak, with a smile she didn’t feel. She could do this. She could make it all about him. She could face the music that the truth was going to bring. Sort of. “How was your day?” she asked. “How are you? Anything on your mind? Anything you want to talk about?”

 

She was pretty sure her heart was a hummingbird, ready to fly up her throat and out her mouth and far away. Try to escape the ache she was about to inflict on it.

 

Okay, she was off. That much was pretty obvious. He wasn’t  _ totally  _ oblivious, and with her fake smile and her sudden launch into questions that, admittedly, he didn’t hear all too often, he was immediately concerned. “My day was fine, I guess. I mean Max isn’t particularly happy with me, but that’s a whole other story.” Not one he was going to indulge in while something was clearly on her mind. “– Talk about?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise and rubbing the back of his neck. What was this about? 

 

“Uh… I mean, maybe we could start with something more pressing? Like why you’re being… weird?” Not so delicately put, sure, but his voice was gentler than his words, genuine concern written on his face. Was she  _ okay? _

 

“Weird?” she asked, too brightly. “I’m not being weird! I just–!”

 

But she took one look at him, and his expression undid her, just like it always did. He could see right through her, and she loved that about him, but she was becoming increasingly aware of how often that meant that he put his needs aside for hers, and that wasn’t fair. She was selfish and careless with him, and it had to stop. Even if it stopped because he realized he was done dealing with it.

 

She sunk to the ground, and patted the ground across from her, inviting him to sit.

 

“I don’t want to make this about me,” she confessed. “Because what’s wrong with me is me, and how I treat you.” She didn’t even think to do it, but her braid was over her shoulder and she was stroking the long, golden strands absently, hugging it as protection against her own feelings. “I’ve made some terrible choices recently, and acted in terrible ways, and…” Her voice caught and her eyes filled with tears. She was so ashamed that she couldn’t even look at him.  _ I’m sorry _ , definitely wasn’t enough, and she definitely didn’t want to start crying in earnest because he’d put everything aside  _ again  _ to comfort her if she did. “Eugene, I’m not good to you. I should be, because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but I’m not a good person, and I don’t know why you put up with it. You shouldn’t have to. So I want to know how you are, and if there’s anything that’s been bothering you and if there’s anything you want to talk about that affects  _ you  _ and not  _ me _ , because that’s what you deserve. You deserve so much better than I’ve been giving you.”

 

His expression was uncertain,  _ cautious  _ almost as he watched her sink to the ground and pat, as if asking for him to join. Join her he did, though, and with barely a hesitation, going to sit beside her, bringing his knees up and resting his arms on them. 

 

And he listened.

 

He listened the way he always did, with that soft and caring expression and  _ without  _ interrupting her. She deserved to be able to talk freely, to get everything off her chest, to be  _ properly listened to _ . It infuriated him, how many people still seemed to not listen to her properly. His expression fell a little as she spoke. She’d been so tortured recently, been through so much, and he really felt for her - he reached out to rest a comforting hand on her knee as she spoke. And then she told him she wasn’t good to him, and he froze.

 

Of course she was. That was his knee-jerk reaction. She treated him well. She  _ loved  _ him, he knew that. And yet, he’d been so taken aback when she asked him how his day was and if there was anything he needed to talk about that he’d instantly known something was up. Was that really a good sign…?

 

He told his brain to shut up. It was bordering on cruel to think of it like that. After all, it had been a very taxing time for her - who could blame her for not asking about  _ him  _ when she had so much stuff of her own to deal with? No. That wasn’t fair. So he shook his head. “C’mon, Rapunzel,” he started with a sigh. “I’m fine. I’m always fine.” Okay, maybe that was a small lie. There’d been plenty of times where he’d have wanted to talk something out with her but kept quiet because she needed him to be a source of comfort, not someone who just burdened her with all his problems. 

 

“… You’ve been through a lot, Blondie, I don’t really expect  _ asking how my day has been _ to be top of your priority list…” He looked away, clearly not entirely comfortable. Because, honestly? He couldn’t help realising that she sort of had a point, and he didn’t like  _ partially  _ agreeing with what she was saying.

 

Always fine. That couldn’t be possible. Who was always fine? He just always hid how he was feeling, for her sake. He wasn’t allowing himself to feel his feelings, and it was all her fault. Because she was weak and fragile and always needed his support.

 

“ _ You _ have to be the top of my priority list,” she pointed out, “and you haven’t been, and you deserve so much better than someone who doesn’t put you first. I’m always telling you how much I love that you love me as Rapunzel, but I don’t treat you like Rapunzel should. I’m always treating you like Princess Rapunzel and that–!” Her voice caught, and she closed her eyes and buried her face against her hair. “Don’t comfort me,” she begged. “This isn’t about me. I’m always making it about me, and I want this to be about you. Your thoughts and feelings and…  _ choices _ .”

 

She could see the realization slowly dawning on his face that she was right, and as that realization sunk in, she had to be prepared for him deciding enough was enough, and that he could do better than her.

 

“I let you risk your life for my parents, for me, for Corona…” Here it came… “And I realized that I’d do it again. I’d put the welfare of Corona before you  _ again _ , and it shouldn’t be that way. You’re supposed to matter the most to me. But… I guess…” This was the hardest thing in the world she’d ever had to confess out loud, and her heart not longer felt like it was beating rapidly, but more like it had stopped entirely. “I guess you don’t…” she managed to whisper.

 

Again, he listened. With every word, his heart started beating faster, and he didn’t like where this seemed to be going. What was she gearing up for? It was either a massive blow to him, or else her feeling terrible about herself - either one of those was bad. As her voice broke and she hid her face in her hair, he reached for her instinctively, wanting to comfort her, to help her, to somehow try and make her feel at least the tiniest bit better. His hand froze for a moment as she told him not to, and with a slightly hurt expression, he pulled his arm back to rest on his knees instead.

 

Yes, she’d let him risk his life for Corona and her parents and her, but that’d been his decision. He was the one who went to her with the idea, who not only put the idea in her head, but persuaded her. Did she seriously blame herself for that one? He had the perfect counter-argument in his head, all set to reassure her that it was okay, that the blame didn’t rest wit her. But then she kept talking.

 

And his stomach felt like it dropped.

 

_ ‘I guess you don’t.’  _

 

_ ‘I guess you DON’T’? _

 

His expression changed before he could stop it - he looked at her as though she’d slapped him, eyes wide, brows lifted, mouth slightly open. And all at once, he was feeling a lot of things, thousands of emotions darting through his mind, confusing him just as much as her statement. There was nothing he’d ever put before her, that much he knew. And he thought he’d known the same of her… and yet here she was, telling him in no uncertain terms, that he wasn’t the thing that mattered most to her. Corona did. Her people. Her job. Her duty.

 

Betrayal. That was the first word he could pinpoint. Betrayal and hurt… confusion… doubt.

 

For once, he didn’t know what to say. But he had to say  _ something _ . You couldn’t just ignore or walk away from a statement like that.

 

“I…” His voice was soft. There was no anger there. He just sounded like he felt -  _ small _ . 

 

“What do you want me to say to that? I don’t…” He couldn’t look at her anymore. He dropped his head into his hands, allowing his face to crumple, just letting the moment of weakness happen now that she couldn’t see his face. Even now, he was trying to protect her.

 

She forced herself to look at him. Forced herself to face what she’d done to the man she loved more than anyone else in the world. Her favorite human. Her best human friend. But that wasn’t enough, was it? He’d literally given his life for her. and that wasn’t enough. She was selfish and cruel and she deserved the punishment of knowing what she’d done to him.

 

Because she did love him. She loved him more than she loved anyone else. She loved him more than she loved Corona. But she didn’t  _ put him first _ , and that was possibly the most wrong thing she’d ever done.

 

So she looked. She looked at the havoc she’d wroght. She looked at his face crumple and his heart break and  _ owned  _ that it was her fault. If she reached for him, would he let her touch him now? She began, then drew her hand back, afraid of what would happen.

 

“Eugene, I’m  _ sorry _ ,” she said softly, her emotion evident in the way her voice croaked. “I really  _ do  _ love you. And I  _ want  _ to put you first. Maybe… I don’t know how to love right, I don’t know.” She shook her head, choking back a sob. “I don’t want to make this about  _ me _ , though. I’m sorry I’m so selfish. I-I want… I want to make this right. But I want you to be the one to decide what would be good enough for you. Because this should be your choice. You should get the say in what will be best for you.” Even if it meant leaving her, like she deserved.

 

She was sorry. Well, he’d sort of expected as much. You couldn’t tell someone they didn’t matter to you as much as they’d thought  _ without  _ a little apology. But that didn’t change anything. Her being sorry had absolutely no effect on the situation - there was still this awful imbalance between them.

 

It was like those little fears that’d occasionally bothered him were springing to life. More than once he’d lain in bed and wondered if he’d ever be enough for her. If she would ever be truly happy or, if, in her desire to explore and not settle, she’d get bored with him, and decide that enough was enough. To him, this seemed like the first step down that road. He wished she hadn’t told him. He wished he could go back to that blissful ignorance of assuming she loved him the way he loved her.

 

“If you wanted to put me first, you wouldn’t have  _ already  _ decided that you’d put  _ Corona  _ first again if it came to it.” His voice wasn’t angry, but it was harder than usual. There was less warmth. Maybe he was reaching for the vestiges of his old Flynn Rider mask to try and protect himself. Sue him. “That doesn’t make sense.”

 

She was so upset, and it was just making it worse and he was  _ torn _ , simultaneously not wanting to look at her, yet wanting to reach out and comfort her the way he always,  _ always  _ had. Words came back to him, words she’d uttered what seemed like forever ago, back when Varian’s lab was collapsing around them. 

 

‘I love you, too. More than you will ever know.’ Well, she was wrong there; now, he  _ did  _ know and he certainly wasn’t top of the list. Maybe he ranked just above her parents, but below the kingdom clearly. It hurt more because she was far and away the most important thing in his life.  _ By far _ . 

 

“Good enough for  _ me? _ Rapunzel, all of this - all of  _ you  _ \- has  _ always  _ been good enough for me! You know that!” Yeah, now he was bordering on angry. He was heartbroken and confused and it manifested itself as anger because that was an altogether easier emotion to deal with. Even if his voice cracked and he felt sick and his chest really hurt. “ _ What _ should be my choice?”

 

She deserved that. She deserved his brusque voice and his anger. That didn’t make it hurt any less, but she thought about all the times that she’d yelled at him and he’d just taken it, swallowed it down, and didn’t make it about him, and she did that for him now.

 

“It would be different if I wasn’t in line to be the queen,” she said, and felt sick to her stomach, even as the words tumbled out of her mouth. “If I wasn’t responsible for thousands of people’s lives, it would be so  _ easy  _ to put you first every time, all the time. But the fact is, I  _ am  _ next in line to be queen, as much as I hate it now, and I have a responsibility.” One that she was born into. One that she’d never asked for.

 

She wished she could turn back time, nearly a year, and never come back to the palace. She wished they had decided to run off together. She wished she’d never known she was the Lost Princess.

 

_ Make the clock reverse… _

 

“You  _ thought  _ I was good enough for you, but you didn’t know the truth about me. I didn’t know the truth about me, either. Not until I was put to the test. And I failed. I failed you.” And she was failing him now, more, with every word she spoke. “What should be your choice is… what happens next. With us. I know I don’t deserve you. I’ve never really thought I did, because you are by far the most amazing person I know, but now I  _ know  _ I don’t. But I want to. I want to fix this. I want to fix  _ me _ . I want to be exactly what you deserve, because I love you so much, and you definitely don’t deserve someone who doesn’t put you first. But… if you decide after finding all this out about me that I’m not worth your time and effort… I’ll understand. I’ll hate it, but I’ll understand.”

 

How could she say that?! Did she know him at all? He could be right near the  _ bottom  _ of her list, and, idiot that he was, he’d still be sticking around until she asked him to leave. Because surely -  _ surely  _ \- being around her and knowing his feelings weren’t entirely reciprocated was better than being without her completely? After everything they’d been through and all that she’d helped make him, he just couldn’t imagine walking away from her for good. What would he even do? Where would he go? With Lance, maybe. And it wouldn’t take long to slip right back into his old ways…

 

No. He didn’t want to think about that. His jaw set and he stared resolutely at the ground for a long time, trying to figure everything out. Was it even fair for him to be upset and angry over this? The kingdom was her  _ responsibility _ , after all, and while he thought he’d still choose her if the situation was reversed, he couldn’t be  _ sure  _ without actually being in her position. She loved him, he knew that. Just… not as much as he thought.

 

His posture sagged. He looked smaller than usual, his head hung, not even knowing what to do. They could move past this, couldn’t they…? Or would things always be a little weird, both of them knowing  _ exactly  _ where they stood, and that where they stood wasn’t on equal footing?

 

He wanted to leave. To just up and run from this situation and hide out in his room or find some way to distract himself because he _ didn’t want to sit here and listen to this _ . The last thing he’d expected from that glider was to hear something like this. “… I’m not going anywhere,” he eventually said, shaking his head minutely and not looking at her. “Not unless you ask me to.” Swallowing, he rubbed his hands down his face, closing his eyes again as if to block everything out. “I love you. You don’t know how much. You don’t. But… Rapunzel, I don’t see how this can be fixed. You can’t just take it back or… make yourself  _ not  _ the princess or change the way your brain works or travel back in  _ time _ , or…” 

 

He stopped himself as his words began to rush together in a jumble, his heart hammering too fast for him to keep up. He should’ve known -  things were going too well for him in this new life. Something like this was bound to happen. 

 

She couldn’t comprehend the rush of inappropriate joy that filled her at him saying he wasn’t going to leave. All she wanted to do was throw herself at him and hug him and kiss him and thank him for his–

 

For his what? This wasn’t forgiveness, and it wasn’t understanding. It was fact, just like her being the crown princess was a fact.

 

Even so, her jaw trembled and the grateful tears spilled in earnest over her cheeks. Her hands clenched in her hair and her shoulders shook with her sobs. “ _ Never _ ,” she croaked. “I’m never going to ask you to go. I don’t want you to leave, Eugene! You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”

 

She wanted to tell him again how much she loved him, because she really did love him more than anyone, but the problem was, no matter how much she loved him, it wouldn’t be  _ enough _ , would it? Because she had to put Corona first.

 

“I’m so… so sorry,” she sobbed, hugging her braid tight and burying her face against it. She wished it was him she was holding and crying on. She wished she deserved his comfort, his love, his loyalty.

 

He couldn’t fix this, and he couldn’t tell her how, and she didn’t know how, herself, and she didn’t think it was the sort of thing she could research in the library or ask her parents about.

Her parents. What would her parents do in this situation?

 

Well… her father would have the whole kingdom hunt for a magic flower, which he would then lock in a vault, away from the people of Corona, and unleash a plague of black spikes to destroy everything in their path. Her dad would choose her mom.

 

That thought made her gasp and shudder in horror. She was worse than the person she was angriest with, the person who she unfavorably compared to the worst person she’d ever met.

 

She was worse than Gothel.

 

She was crying, and his arms twitched, instinctively wanting to reach for her, to pull her against him and _ help her _ . But she’d told him not to before. And right now, for the first time, there was another, smaller part of him that didn’t particularly  _ want  _ to comfort her.

 

Maybe it was mean. Maybe it was justified. He really couldn’t wrap his head around the things he’d just heard enough to fully understand whether he was in the right or the wrong here. It was something he’d have to try and figure out later, but right now? These reactions born of heartbreak were going to have to suffice.

 

So he stayed where he was, knees up, arms resting on them and face resting in his arms. She could apologise as much as she wanted, but it still didn’t change what she’d just told him. That the kingdom was definitely more important to her than he was.

 

Her gasp caught his attention, and he looked up, confused by the look of horror on her face. “What?”  

 

He was feeling more sick by the second, the full realisation of what she’d confessed and how that was going to affect everything hitting him full force. They’d been doing just  _ fine  _ before this.  _ Great _ . They’d had something amazing and he was deliriously happy with her. But knowing this? It was all just… practically ruined. Why?! 

 

“Why did you say anything?!” he finally blurted out, unable to contain it. “Why would you tell me something like that?! What was your  _ goal _ , here?! The one time you  _ didn’t  _ keep a secret from me and it’s the one time you probably should’ve.” That wasn’t fair,  _ and  _ it was an exaggeration, and he  _ knew  _ that. He just didn’t care. 

 

“I knew you were unhappy but I thought it was everything else. And you rejected my proposal, so I thought it was a time thing. I tried to understand and I thought that eventually I’d be enough for you, but–” The anger drained from him, and he was left feeling even more dejected than before. Tears welled in his eyes, and he resolutely blinked them away, shaking his head and pressing his palms against his eyes. “I didn’t  _ want  _ to know that I’m never going to be.” His voice shook.

 

Why  _ had  _ she said anything? What had been the  _ point? _ Just to clear her own damn conscience? Had this been just one more selfish move on top of all the others?!

 

She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes until she saw white spots. “I don’t know, I don’t know!” she moaned. Her whole form trembled with emotion. She was crashing and burning, every bad thing Gothel had ever accused her of being. No, worse! Because she wouldn’t even pick the man she loved most above a kingdom of strangers.

 

“You  _ are  _ enough!” she sobbed. “You’re  _ more  _ than enough! It  _ is  _ a time thing! Eugene, I want you forever! But I don’t know how to be a good queen and a good… girlfriend or wife or whatever at the same time! Until you, I’d only had one other person in my life, and now I have thousands, and I’m supposed to take care of everyone and I don’t know how, but the one I feel the most guilty about is  _ you! _ ”

 

He wished he weren’t so damn in tune with her emotions. They way she sobbed and shook made him feel so much worse, until he felt traitorous tears against his palms.  _ No, you don’t cry. You _ don’t  _ cry _ . 

 

But he did. He was.

 

There was no way he could emerge from behind his hands now. She couldn’t see him crying. No one could. He held his shoulders as rigid as he could, to try and keep them from shaking, but his whole body shook instead. For a long time, he didn’t reply to her. What could he say? He couldn’t assure her that everything was okay, because that would be a great big  _ lie _ . He couldn’t tell her how to fix it. He couldn’t even make a suggestion. This just… wasn’t something that could be fixed. And he’d have to learn to be okay living with this knowledge, or else just cut his losses and leave now. 

 

“I… this isn’t real. It’s not happening. We were going too great. It’s just a nightmare.” Utter crap, and he knew it. But to accept this as reality was to accept that everything between them had changed, and that she would just pick the kingdom. Over and over again, she’d pick Corona. No, he’d grasp at every single straw he possibly could.

 

His voice betrayed him, and Rapunzel looked up from her own sobs and held her breath. He was crying. She’d made him  _ cry! _ She’d never made another person cry in sadness in her life, and now she’d made  _ him  _ of all people cry?! But he was so strong and–

 

That only meant that she had truly broken him, ground him under her heel into the finest powder of glass. Her heart stopped entirely.

 

“I take it back,” she whispered, horrified at herself and all the damage she’d inflicted. “If I take it back, will it go away? It’s not true, I’m talking crazy, okay? I-it’s just all the stress! I take it back, none of it’s real. I-I’ll do better, I’ll  _ change! _ I’ll make you first! You’ll always come first, I’m  _ sorry! _ ”

 

The words were just tumbling out of her mouth like word vomit spilling on the ground between them. She just wanted to fix it! How could she fix it? How could she make it better? How could she… heal what had been hurt?

 

Crazy as it seemed, what he wanted right now was to be in her arms. She may be the one that had inflicted the pain, but she was still the only one he’d allow to comfort him. And  _ oh _ , he wished with all his heart that he could believe her ramblings, that she was telling him the truth, that all this was just an elaborate and mean joke, or just the stress talking… But they both knew she meant it. Of course she did. Why else would she say something like that to him?

 

He felt so  _ pathetic _ , sitting here crying in a vineyard, and he was furious with himself for letting this happen. Yet the more he willed the tears to stop, the more there seemed to be. Clearly she’d noticed, and so he didn’t bother hiding it any more - he looked up, pressing trembling lips together, and just looked at her for the first time in a while. 

 

“You can’t,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I wish you could.” He wrapped his arms around himself, seeking some kind of comfort and reassurance. She couldn’t take it back. She couldn’t fix it. Neither of them could. The situation just  _ was _ . Surely he’d learn to accept it for what it was, in time? And stop feeling so small and insignificant because of it?

 

The actual sight of his red eyes just made it worse. This, she knew, was the worst punishment she could be made to receive. Knowing she’d broken Eugene’s heart. She was more miserable than she’d ever been in her life. And all she wanted was for him to hold her, even if–

 

No! That was what he always did! It was her turn!

 

“Eugene…” she breathed. She shuffled toward him on her knees and reached out to him slowly. She half expected him to swat her hands away, but… he needed her. No one should have to feel like they had to take care of themselves when they felt this way.

 

She tenderly cupped his face in her hands and brushed her thumbs under his eyes, drying his tears. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much Eugene. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to hurt you…”

 

The way she breathed out his name made his resolve crumble, and he looked down again, more tears spilling down his cheeks. He’d always adored the way his name sounded on her lips, the way she said it with such care, such love. Only now it hurt, because it wasn’t  _ enough  _ love.

 

Despite his wish to be held, when she reached for him he very nearly leaned away from her touch. That impulse was gone in a second, though, and he shivered as she touched his face, leaning into her hands. His eyes closed all over again. “I love you, too,” he breathed out, and his voice cracked. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t glare or push her away or make any kind of comment. He just sat there and let her hold his face, soaking up the love she was able to give him.

 

She wanted to keep talking, to beg his forgiveness, but that would bring the attention back to her, and she was still trying to make this about him. Tenderly, she pressed a kiss against his forehead, then shuffled closer and wrapped her arms around him, tugging him against her so she could hold him, be the comforter instead of the comfortee for once.

 

At least he still loved her. That was probably more than she deserved. She stroked his hair, letting the strands shift between her slender fingers. She closed her eyes and rested her mouth and nose against his chestnut locks. She loved him so much. So, so much. So much more than she’d ever loved a person before. Letting him go to the mountain pass to save her parents had been such a difficult choice, and she thought she’d lost him for sure.

 

Never again. She would never let him die for her again.

 

Her kiss to his forehead was sweet; he sniffed, desperately trying to bring the tears to a stop. A futile attempt. And then her arms were around him and she pulled him close and not a bone in his body wanted to fight her on it; he leaned into her willingly, hiding his face against her neck and simply sitting there in her arms.

 

Not a word was spoken.

 

In the quiet sanctuary of her arms, if he focused hard enough, he could pretend this was any other day and that nothing awful had just happened. Instead, he could focus on how it felt to be in her arms, to allow himself to be held and comforted and cared for this way. Another sniff, and he nuzzled closer, seeking her warmth and the tender affection that she was providing. Something told him that this has been long overdue.

 

Another inappropriate surge of joy flooded her being as he not only leaned into her embrace but nuzzled closer. They would be alright, wouldn’t they? They’d get past this somehow. And someday, she’d prove to him that she was determined to put him first. She just knew that, right now, he wouldn’t believe her.

 

Her strokes to his hair moved down to his back, and she just rubbed with the flat of her palm. She had to make it up to him in small ways until he was healed. Eventually, he’d realize that she was sincere about changing. She just wished that she could somehow speed the process along, make him see faster. She just wanted to make him smile again, and she was scared it was going to be a really long time.

 

He was so torn.

 

It was so nice to have her holding him, to allow himself to feel this way for once and just be comforted, instead of being the one doing the comforting. But then, part of him was very aware that she was the reason he needed comforting in the first place.This logic didn’t track. And for the first time ever, he wasn’t entirely comfortable in her arms.

 

Regardless, he couldn’t pull away. Not yet. Not when he didn’t know  _ when  _ he’d allow her to hold him again, or when he’d feel okay about it. It was like being a kid all over again - Eugene hadn’t been good enough then, either, and Flynn Rider was born. Except he didn’t have that mask to hide behind anymore. He’d taken it apart, bit by bit with her help, and now there was nothing but vestiges left behind.

 

She rubbed his back, and he felt the tears slow. He wasn’t used to crying, hadn’t for a long time, and he hated the way it made him feel. Finally, his arms wound around her waist, face still well-hidden partly because he didn’t want her to see him cry, and partly because he just didn’t want to look at her. Not when he didn’t even know how they were going to learn to deal with this.

 

It seemed like she just held him for an eternity, wanting something back but nether expecting it nor feeling like she deserved it. His anger, his shunning, was going to be her burden to bear. It was the punishment she deserved for what she’d done.

 

Despite holding him, she felt very alone right now, and she had no idea what, if anything, could be done to ease the pain. His arms sliding around her was the first glimmer of hope she’d gotten since she watched his face fall, and she wrapped her arms tighter around him and just held on, hugging with her whole body and refusing to let herself to start crying again. It was  _ her  _ turn to be strong for  _ him _ , even though she was the cause of his pain.  _ Especially  _ because she was the cause of his pain. She should have done this so many more times before now.

 

It was the strangest sensation, to be so close and feel so far apart. This moment was tenuous and fragile, a moment trapped in time. It felt like it was the end of something, and that as soon as they let go, the spell that had been woven between them since they sat on that boat on her birthday, surrounded by floating lanterns, would be broken. The next time she dared to open her eyes, the world would be a much dimmer, greyer place.

 

Even after something like that, they were still on the same page about certain things; he was reluctant to pull away for the exact same reasons she was. Because it’d feel different. This embrace almost felt like a goodbye.

 

But he couldn’t think like that. He  _ couldn’t _ . They were going to make it through this just as they’d made it through everything else… they just needed time. He was  _ sure  _ he could come to terms with this eventually, could find a way to be okay with it and move on and be happy. Eventually. He could do pretty much anything if it meant staying with her.

 

For a moment, he gripped her tighter, brows furrowing, fingers pressing into her back as he held her. Then, his grip loosened. He blinked quickly several times… and he pulled back. The tears had stopped, but his cheeks were wet and his eyes were red as he looked at her, his hands slipping away from her back. He let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. His stomach lurched as he realised that, for now at least, that was it.

 

And he wanted to leave. He wanted to be alone. “… I’m gonna go,” he said quietly, gaze cast down. 

 

When his grip loosened, she felt like her heart stopped. For a moment, she almost held on tighter, stubbornly refusing to release him.  _ But that wasn’t what he needed _ , and she needed to start thinking about his needs.

 

He looked so forlorn and lost sitting there, and every fiber of her being wanted to dry the remnants of his tears and hug him again. But he’d been the one to pull away, and she had to stay where she was.

 

At his comment, her heart plummeted back into her stomach and her own eyes dropped and filled with tears. And she said the only thing she could, the same thing he’d said to her so many times before in situations like this. “I understand…”

 

He didn’t want to leave. He did, but he didn’t and his head hurt just trying to figure out his next move. What he needed, he knew, was to try and get some clarity. To go somewhere, gather his thoughts, and work all of this out. And it was important that he did that  _ without her there _ , as cruel as it sounded. She was a distraction, and he really needed to think. 

 

So, pressing his lips together to stop them from shaking and wiping at his face, he pushed himself to a stand, half-heartedly brushing the dirt from his pants. He hardly cared. At least she was letting him go. He looked at that as a small victory - she was putting him first now, at least, if not always. 

 

Swallowing down the words of love he wanted to say, the remorse he wanted to express, he gave her one last tearful, lingering look before finally turning away. Those first few steps were maybe the hardest he’d ever taken; he yearned to turn back, to run to her side and gather her in his arms and make her feel better. Yet the further he got, the easier it was. Not good, not even  _ okay _ , but a little easier. 

 

She watched him go, feeling like time was moving in slow motion around her. She wondered, if she were to reach for him, or call out, would he stay? If she reminded him again that she loved him, would he return the sentiment? Would it sound as dull and forced as it had the last time he’d said it? She didn’t want to find out, so she didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything, just let him walk away like he wanted.

 

_ Come back! _ her mind screamed, and railed against her for not voicing the thoughts. It was giving her a headache, all of it. This whole afternoon had been a horrible form of torture that somehow only her mind could concoct.

 

When he was well and truly gone, she crawled back under the grapevines, but just as she’d predicted, there was nothing beautiful to look at here, now. She didn’t know how long she sat there, staring dully ahead without really seeing anything, replaying the whole conversation, his look of horror and grief etched in her mind every time she closed her eyes.

 

Her body felt like lead when she finally dragged herself to her feet and plodded dully back towards the castle. He wasn’t leaving. She had to keep reminding herself that he said he wouldn’t go. But it also wouldn’t surprise her if he avoided her for a while.

 

Perhaps it was true that not everyone had to like her, but she never thought she’d do something to cause Eugene not to, even for a little while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weeks ago, Eugene walked away from Rapunzel feeling hurt an betrayed, and they haven't spoken or interacted much since. Neither of them are coping well.

Days passed.

 

Life had shifted pretty drastically; Eugene’s appetite was down and he was barely engaging with the people around him, too absorbed in his own thoughts as he tried and tried to come to terms with the things that Rapunzel had told him. _ He wasn’t enough. _ Or maybe he was, but the kingdom was  _ more _ . Either way, the result was the same - Corona was more important to her than he was. So much so that she’d choose it over him, every time. 

 

And every single time he thought of that, he felt sick to his stomach. Maybe that’d explain the absence of what once was a very hearty appetite. 

 

As for interactions with Rapunzel? They were brief and few.  _ Everyone _ had noticed the shift. They’d have to be blind to not see the difference in the way they acted around one another, the light-hearted teasing and the casual touches totally gone, to be replaced by interactions that could only be described as  _ stiff _ . Clinical, almost, like he was reading from a script. Because he still loved her, dammit, but it was just so difficult to talk to her now that he knew he stood so much lower than he thought. For the most part, he just avoided her. Not a single paper glider was sent up to her room, and they hadn’t been alone together since that one afternoon in the vineyard had turned everything on its head. 

 

Eventually, the days turned into weeks.

 

He hadn’t slept properly for so long, plagued by nightmares but not ready to go to her and allow her to soothe him, to chase them away. Most nights he lay there, staring at his ceiling, stomach growling for food he couldn’t bring himself to eat. Lance was a big help most days, proving a very effective distraction and even getting Eugene to smile, and start feeling like his old self again. But it didn’t last. His mind always, without fail, circled back to Rapunzel, and the confession she’d made. 

 

He wasn’t the most important thing to her. 

 

His choices right now were to either find a way to come to terms with that fact, or just leave, but even now he knew that the latter wasn’t even an option. He never considered it. But how could he learn to be okay with it? How could he cope with this imbalance between them? How could he even begin when every time he saw her, he felt a pang in his chest and a lurch in his stomach?

 

That first night, Rapunzel had gone straight to bed, completely disinterested in dinner. She’d painted their parting in her journal, because as much as she hated it, it was significant. All she’d been able to write around the picture was apologies. That first night, sleep didn’t come at all, but tears did. She’d cried into her pillow and explained the situation to Pascal, who tried his best to be comforting, but they both knew it was a losing battle. There were some things that just couldn’t be comforted from.

 

Seeing Eugene was so hard, so she tried not to. Even when they found themselves in the same room, she only looked at him when she absolutely must. She wondered if he’d change his mind and leave. She wondered if he’d ever speak to her familiarly again. Her mom confronted her quietly a few days in, and Rapunzel had weakly explained that they were fighting, and that she didn’t want to talk about it.

 

Her own appetite waned. Everything tasted the same shade of grey that the world looked. She was always tired, but never wanted to sleep. When she did, the nightmares were so bad, and they all focused on him. The worst one was probably when she dreamed that he was right there beside her and she rolled to drape her arm over him, and woke when her hand hit the empty bed. She’d cried inconsolably for an hour after that.

 

The days turned into weeks, and the mood didn’t lighten. Rapunzel was simply plagued by her guilt, by the look on his face when she’d explained, by wondering why she’d felt the need to voice that thought.

 

It was another visit from Queen Arianna that provided the first hint of real comfort she’d felt in all this time.

 

“You’re a princess, the future queen,” she explained, “but that isn’t all you are. You’re also Rapunzel, a young lady very much in love. I know it’s hard, realizing that duty and personal desire can’t walk hand in hand at all times. I suffered my own fit of heartache when I realized that Corona came before me. But eventually, I came to realize that Corona comes before your father, as well. I’m sure eventually, Eugene will realize the same thing.”

 

Rapunzel wasn’t so sure, especially because Corona _ hadn’t  _ come before her mom. But she was at least able to smile a little, knowing that she wasn’t the only person who’d ever gone through this.

 

It rained that night. Normally, Rapunzel would be out on her balcony dancing in it. But she didn’t much feel like dancing right now, and didn’t much like the rain at this time. Huddled on her bed, she listened to the drops hit her window and wished with all her heart that Eugene was here.

 

It was getting harder and harder with every day.

 

That didn’t seem right. Wasn’t time supposed to heal all wounds? Why wasn’t time doing its damn job?! For a while, Eugene thought it needed to get worse before it got better. Then he’d pieced it all together - it wasn’t the pain she’d caused him with her confession that was worsening. It was the pain he’d caused  _ himself  _ by distancing himself from her. But what could he do? He still hadn’t figured out how to be okay with it and he couldn’t just  _ fake _ it. Not with Rapunzel. She was too important. So he’d pushed on, distracting himself any way he could during the day and then lying there virtually sleepless all night, mind too full with dark and distressing thoughts to allow him a moment of peace.

 

Tonight was one such night.

 

He guessed it was approaching three in the morning, and yet here he was lying on his back, staring unseeingly up at his ceiling without having had so much as a minute of sleep. He wasn’t even  _ close _ to it. All he could think of was her. Sometimes he could even kid himself he was beside her; even now, if he closed his eyes and thought hard enough, he could almost feel the warm press of her against his side. But she wasn’t here. Or  _ he  _ wasn’t  _ there _ . All because he hadn’t allowed it. He’d been the one to walk away, after all. He’d been the one to avoid her. He’d been the one that hadn’t sent up any gliders for two weeks, now.

 

He felt sick at just the thought. They’d never been apart for this long before. He’d never even thought they  _ would _ be apart for this long, and his stomach was twisting unpleasantly as he lay there, bordering on painful. It was  _ painful _ to be without her.

 

But there was an easy solution. His heart began to beat faster. Because now? Now, he  _ needed  _ to do this. He  **had** to. He couldn’t  _ stand _ it anymore. 

 

He got up, grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and folded it. Without a second glance, he left his room and his pointless bed.

 

It was freezing cold outside, and pouring down with rain and he was drenched within seconds as he made his way to the courtyard beneath her balcony. It wasn’t too long a walk, though, and soon he was there in that old familiar spot, shivering against the cold and staring up at her balcony. She was up there… 

 

He knew his chances weren’t good, knew that it was a ridiculous hour of the night (or rather, morning) and that she probably wouldn’t even notice if a glider hit her window. But he had to  _ try _ .  _ Thank the Fates it’s not windy.  _

 

Squinting through the rain, he pulled back his arm and threw the glider up to her balcony. It didn’t make it, and fell sadly to the floor. He tried again. No dice. Not about to give up, he retrieved it once more, drew back his arm, aimed— and stopped.

 

_                What if she doesn’t even want to see you? _

 

_                                 She  _ **_does._ **

 

He threw. It missed.

 

_                What if she got tired of waiting for you? _

 

_                                 Shut  _ **_up._ **

 

A throw. A miss.

 

_                What if you’ve blown it? _

 

__ **_SHUT  UP._ **

 

A desperate throw, and another miss. With a yell of frustration, he clutched at his hair for a moment before rushing forward and seizing the glider once more, his hands shaking both with the cold and with emotion as he straightened it out, desperately trying to streamline it better. It had to reach her. He had to reach her.

 

This time, he threw it harder.

 

            It soared over her balcony and hit her window.

 

Rapunzel had no idea what time it was. Just that it was still dark and still raining and still miserable. Pascal had fallen asleep on his little branch near the ceiling hours ago, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. No need for her to spread her suffering to her best friend.

 

She listened to the wind and rain and imagined what it might be like to be snuggled up against Eugene in this weather.

 

_ You may never get to again. You’ve done some low things in your life, broken some major promises, but this one takes the cake. He has every right to walk away and forget all about. you _

 

Her inner monologue sounded sickeningly like Gothel. That hadn’t happened in a while. She curled up on her bed, tears stinging her eyes, when a wet  _ slap! _ hit her window. She supposed for a moment that it might be a windblown sheet of rain, or perhaps an unfortunate leaf. But something nigged at the back of Rapunzel’s mind, and she rolled over to look at the noisemaker.

 

_ Parchment! _

 

With a strangled gasp, she got out of bed and pulled the window open. It blew itself inward after barely a tug and she peeled the wet parchment off the glass. Huh. There was nothing written on it. Maybe it was just a hapless victim of the storm.

 

But could she take that chance?

 

No. No, she could not.

 

She set the dripping parchment aside and climbed out her window, running in her bare feet to the railing and slipping and sliding on the terrazzo as she did. She skidded to a halt against the rail and looked over the edge and down below.

 

And there he was, soaked to the skin and looking up expectantly. Rapunzel let out a sound that was somewhere between a shout of joy and a sob, and quickly toss her hair over the balcony to let it fall down to him. The instant she felt his familiar weight tangled in her locks, she began to pull, walking backward and hauling it in hand over hand to get him up to her all the faster. Her feet kept losing purchase on the wet tile, but she didn’t let that stop her, desperation driving her onward.

 

It wasn’t even a minute that he stood there, but it felt like  _ hours _ . He stared up at her balcony, waiting,  _ hoping _ for her face to appear.

 

_ You’ve blown it. You waited too long. She’s done. _

 

He’d wait here in the rain all night if there was even the slightest chance that she’d appear up there, ready to let him up. He’d throw endless gliders up there. She still didn’t appear; his heart sunk with each second that passed.

 

But then there she was.

 

His heart seized, then pounded faster than ever as he saw her and she threw her hair down for him the way she always did when he sent up a glider. She hadn’t given up waiting for him. He rushed forwards, gripping at her hair and climbing even as he felt her start to pull him up; now that he’d decided to break the silence, he couldn’t get to her fast enough.

 

The rain made it harder to climb, lashing down and his wet clothes weighed him down, but he kept on going, hauling himself up. He clambered over the railings, straightened up and stared at her, a breath escaping him. For a while, he was silent, just looking. And then…

 

”… Hey, Blondie…”

 

There was a moment when he stood there and she had no idea what was coming next. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was panting with the effort of pulling him up so fast.

 

He was so beautiful, even completely soaked, even with his hair plastered to his face and the circles under his eyes from his obvious lack of sleep. Rapunzel felt like she hadn’t properly looked at him in ages, and he was such a familiar sight that she wondered if she’d somehow started to forget what he looked like.

 

She was petrified to move or speak, not at all sure what came next, but then he said his pet name for her, and she was rushing forward again with an exhaled, “Eugene!” She collided with him in the rain and hugged him tightly, feeling more at home out here in the cold and pouring rain than she had for the past two weeks.

 

It was so strange seeing her now. Yes, he’d seen her around and at a few meal times, but somehow now, standing in the rain together on her balcony, it felt like he was seeing her for the first time since the vineyard. And she was so gorgeous…

 

As she started towards him, he rushed forwards too, meeting her halfway. They held each other in the rain, desperately clutching each other as close as possible. “Rapunzel…” he whispered in a shaky breath, and tightened his arms around her. His eyes closed, brow furrowed deeply as he pressed his face to the curve between her neck and shoulder.

 

It was cold and rainy and dark and he still wasn’t sure what to make of what she’d said to him, but this was exactly what he’d been needing. He could feel the weight slowly easing from his shoulders. His heart kept on hammering, the breath leaving him and he tried to pull her closer, only he couldn’t. Oh, he’d missed her so much.  _ So much. _ He stroked her hair, rubbed her back, and then went right back to holding her tightly against him, reluctant to let go.

 

It was the reverse of their hug in the vineyard. All the life slowly reawakened in her, and she started to really feel things again, and even though they didn’t have answers, she knew for a fact that everything was going to be okay, now. It hadn’t been goodbye, after all, which meant life was going to go on.

 

She wasn’t sure how long they were out there when the ambient temperature began to to get to her and she felt herself trembling in his arms. At first, she thought it might be nerves or emotion, but she gradually came to realize she was  _ cold _ .

 

“Come on,” she mumbled against the curve of his throat. “Let’s get inside, where it’s warm and dry.”

They could work on whatever came next from there.

 

It was absolutely freezing. He’d been outside for a long time now, sneaking over here, then his many failed attempts to get a glider to her, then climbing her hair and now standing out here in the rain with her. And he hated the rain. So her suggestion that they go inside was more than welcome.

 

Reluctantly, he loosened his arms from around her, looking down at her for a few moments, drinking in the sight of her face. He’d missed her so much it hurt, and he could feel the ache slowly easing away from him now that she was back in his arms. He should never have kept them apart for so long, and he knew that now. Yet maybe he should’ve. Maybe that time had been exactly what they’d needed, however difficult it had been.

 

“Okay,” he eventually said, voice very quiet. He held onto one of her hands with both of his own as they made their way into her room. It was a relief to be finally out of the rain, but now he stood dripping onto her floor. He was absolutely  _ soaked _ and he couldn’t suppress the shivers. Right now, though? He hardly cared. All that mattered that he was back with her. That she hadn’t given up on him. 

 

“Rapunzel…” he began, gazing at her with all the adoration he’d  _ always _ had. He’d never stopped loving her, not one little bit. He didn’t know what else to say right then, didn’t even know where he’d been going with it. So he just stepped forward to close the gap between them and pulled her into his arms again, hiding his face in her hair.

 

She couldn’t explain her joy that he held onto her with both hands. It felt good to know he still wanted to be this close to her. She’d been leading him towards the fire when he said her name, and she stopped and turned to look at him, her heart hammering and skipping at the same time until it was an awkward but somehow delightful schottische in her chest.

 

And then she was in his arms, and she gladly hugged him back, held him close as the puddle under them gradually grew. They’d have to be careful not to slip on the tile the next time they moved, but she hardly cared about that right now. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and hugged him tighter. “I never meant to hurt you, and I don’t blame you at all for reacting like you did. I missed you so much, Eugene.”

 

For a while, he was quiet. He let her speak, he listened, but he didn’t say anything. After all, to tell her ‘it’s okay’ would be a lie, because right now? It wasn’t. It  _ would _ be, given time, but in this moment he was still confused and hurt. The way he missed her, though, far outweighed the hurt he felt. He needed to be with her again. He’d work it all out, but he’d do it by her side. 

 

His arms tightened around her again, and he shifted so he could press a kiss to the top of her head. “I missed you, too. I love you…” he eventually murmured, resting his cheek against her hair for a little while before finally drawing back. He brushed a hand tenderly over her cheek before pulling away completely and going over to stand by the fire, holding out his icy cold hands to try and warm them up. Damn, he was  _ freezing _ . It felt wrong to be so far from her, though, so he turned to look at her softly, hoping she’d quickly join him.

 

“I love you too,” It was good to hear, and good to say. She hadn’t been expecting his forgiveness. She wasn’t even disappointed, and would have been surprised if he’d offered it. What she’d admitted to him was unforgivable, but she hoped it was something they could learn to live with, together. Had he offered a return apology, she would have told him not to. After all, he’d done absolutely nothing wrong, and it was her turn to remind him that he didn’t have to be sorry for the way things were.

 

She looked at him by the light of the fire, the glow warming his skin, and smiled softly. But it was a tired, sad smile. They’d always been pretty good at reading each other, and his look was an open invitation, so she joined him, still so willing to do exactly what he wanted, exactly what he needed. She worked on wringing out her hair while he warmed his hands.

 

“Can I… try to explain myself better?” she wondered, her gaze turning back to the fire. She was no longer afraid to look at him, but it was hard to keep her thoughts gathered right now, and her love for him and need to be with him would likely stop her short, keeping the words she felt needed to be said inside.

 

It was so nice to hear it back after two weeks. Another weight lifted, like he’d been  _ needing _ to hear it. Honestly, he needed  _ any _ affirmation she was able or willing to give after what had been said in that vineyard - he’d appreciate every single act or word of love so much more now, simply because the security he’d felt before had crumbled.

 

Once she joined him by the fire, he smiled faintly, enjoying the simple proximity. Being close to her warmed him just as much as the fire did, in an altogether different way. When his hands were sufficiently warmed, he tried wringing out his hair a little, managing with some of the longer locks. The rest, he just pushed his hand through a few times, trying to squeeze the rain out. His actions paused, though, at her question. 

 

She wanted to try to explain herself. Would that fan the flames of his pain? Or would it ease it a little? Maybe she’d offer a better perspective, a way for him to understand and to not feel so betrayed and unbalanced by the news. So, swallowing, he nodded. “If you want to.”

 

She would be lying if she said that she wasn’t scared to bring it up again. After all, this was what had ruined everything in the first place. So, she took a deep breath and pushed her hands over her hair, then rested them on her shoulders.

 

“When we met, I was just Rapunzel. I didn’t have a crown or the burden of responsibility. And that me, that Rapunzel, that’s who gave her heart to you, and that’s the Rapunzel you fell in love with. And that’s the Rapunzel who was willing to sacrifice her freedom for your life. And that Rapunzel still exists, and she’s me. I love you with my whole heart, and I would still do anything for you.”

 

A part of her wanted to leave it at that, but there was more to it, and she knew he knew.

 

“But, just like how Eugene and Flynn are the same person, but not, Rapunzel and Princess Rapunzel are the same person, but not. Princess Rapunzel  _ has  _ to put Corona first. It’s my job. It might not have been what I chose, but it’s fact. But Eugene, I hope you realize that in my personal life, I will  _ always  _ put you first. I should have been doing it all along. I’ve been very selfish and self absorbed lately, and I’m so sorry for that, but I promise, it’ll change. From now on, I’ll be much more attentive to your needs. I’ll ask you about your day, and I’ll listen when you need to talk, regardless of what’s on my mind. I’ll put you first, all the time.”

 

It didn’t take long after she’d started speaking for him to realise he’d  _ needed  _ to hear this. He needed to hear that she still loved him with her whole heart, that she’d still do anything for him and that part of her wasn’t the woman with a duty to her people. 

 

There was more to this story, though, and after initiating that silence for two weeks, he felt like he owed it to her to listen and listen well. For a moment, as she spoke of how she’d been selfish and self-absorbed, he wanted to leap in and defend her against herself, but as much as she hated to admit it, she had a point. He stayed quiet.

 

She was right. Rapunzel and Princess Rapunzel were so similar to Eugene and Flynn Rider - he’d never thought of it that way. The difference was that he’d been able to shake off Flynn Rider for both their sakes with very few consequences. But the kingdom  _ needed  _ its Princess. She couldn’t shake that one off, not for herself and not for him.

 

She didn’t  _ choose  _ the kingdom, but she  _ did _ choose him. Maybe she couldn’t keep on choosing him, but if that duty wasn’t there… he knew what her choice would be. His heart was beating faster again as he looked at her, as she apologised and explained herself and he  _ loved her so much _ . 

 

When she was finished, he didn’t speak. He’d not done a whole lot of speaking recently, too caught up in his thoughts, but right now, he was quiet for a different reason - there was nothing to say. Not right that second. He just gazed at her wordlessly. Slowly, every so slowly, he moved towards her and his movements remained steady as he reached out for her, letting his fingers trace along her cheek. He swallowed, looked down at the floor, took a few steps closer. His hand cradled her soft cheek in his palm, and his gaze returned to hers. 

 

“I understand.”

 

Rapunzel would put him above everything and anything.  _ Princess _ Rapunzel didn’t have the luxury of that choice, but she’d make it if she could. Her explanation had cleared up so many things and while the situation wasn’t  _ fixed  _ \- and could never  _ be _ fixed - he  _ understood _ now. She didn’t love him any less than he’d thought.

 

“I understand,” he repeated again, his breath catching. “I didn’t before. I thought… you didn’t love me as much as I thought. I’m sorry, I didn’t…” He trailed off, shaking his head and pulling her against him, in the safe circle of his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and hiding his face in her hair all over again. He was so sorry that he’d left her like that. She must’ve been so worried…

 

Relief flooded through her, and she didn’t realize how tense she’d been this whole time, even at their initial reunion, until he took her in his arms again. She wrapped her arms around him and grateful tears stung her eyes, her fingers clutching the wet fabric of his doublet.

 

“No,” she said, her voice a little froggy with emotion, “don’t apologize. I should have picked a better time and place, a better way to explain it to you. I just dropped it in your lap, half-thought. I don’t blame you for jumping to the wrong conclusion. I don’t blame you for needing space. I’m just glad you’re back.”

 

Her grip on him tightened and she pressed her face against his chest, able to feel his warmth and hear his heartbeat through his soaked clothes. He was so close again, so close. “I’m just so glad you’re back,” she repeated softly.

 

He wanted nothing more right now than to just stay here, holding her for as long as she let him. It’d been far too long since he’d felt the familiar warmth of her against his chest, and his arms had almost felt  _ empty _ without her in them. True, he could have reacted worse and jumping to the conclusion he had hadn’t really been such a stretch considering the way she’d worded it, but he was still sorry for it. He just wished she hadn’t told him the way she had.

 

“I’m back,” he repeated to her, just so she knew. “I gotcha, Blondie. I gotcha…” His eyes were closed, his cheek pressed against her hair, his hands stroking down her hair and her back to try and comfort her, to  _ assure  _ her that he was there with her and he wasn’t going anywhere. Not again. “I love both of you,” he told her after a moment of quiet. Did she know that? “You and ‘Princess Rapunzel’. I love you both. So much. I love every part of you.” His biceps flexed, holding her tighter for a few moments.

 

Despite her warmth, he was still cold, though, and he loosened his grip so he could move closer to the fire, gently guiding her with him and pulling her to sit. He sat on the floor, legs curled beneath him. “I’m sorry for putting you through that…” he said again, shaking his head and pulling her back against him. “You must’ve been so worried…”

 

He loved them both. She didn’t know she’d needed to hear that at all, let alone how very much she needed it, until she heard it, and she finally let herself cry openly in front of him. He was offering her the comfort she’d been denying needing for his sake, and she couldn’t resist its siren’s song a moment longer.

 

She moved easily with his guidance and the warmth of the fire was nice, but not as nice as his embrace. She pressed against him, wanting to be as close as could be.

 

“You said you wouldn’t leave,” she reminded him, “and I told myself that every day. I trust you, and I know you wouldn’t lie to me. I just didn’t know how long it would take, and I didn’t want to hold you to a promise that you felt terrible keeping every day. I mostly felt guilty for driving you away in the first place. I knew it was all my fault. I knew this was something I’d done to you, the worst thing I’ve ever done to anyone, and I’m so sorry for hurting you so badly. I missed you so much. It was so hard without you.”

 

Her tears struck a chord with him. The last time she’d cried, he’d been crying too - he cringed at the memory, hating that he’d done that - and hadn’t comforted her. This time was entirely different. He cradled her closer, stroking her wet hair to soothe her, letting her cry against him by the fire as much as she needed to.

 

He was glad to hear that, despite the silence between them for those awful two weeks, she hadn’t lost faith in him. She’d continued to trust him. That meant more than he could ever tell her. People were so quick to write him off, and sometimes he  _ still _ felt like people were just waiting for him to screw up or to suddenly revert back to his old self for some reason. But not her. She’d always had faith in him, and hearing that he hadn’t forfeited that with his reaction? It was huge relief. 

 

“I know,” he murmured to her as she spoke of how difficult it’d been. “I know it was hard…” He didn’t apologise again, though. He had once, and she’d told him that it was okay. “I just couldn’t… I didn’t want to see you again until I’d got things figured out, and I thought time and space would help with that. But all I was doing was distracting myself, and missing you more and more and making it worse… I had time to think about it, but I didn’t get anywhere and…” He drew back, just looking at her with all the love he hadn’t been able to look at her with before. “I needed to hear what you said. About the two you’s. I needed to hear them separated, and that you still…” Again, he trailed off.  _ You still love me. You still want me. You, as Rapunzel, would still put me first.  _ “I’m sorry it’s so late,” he eventually added with a trace of humour. “And so rainy…”

 

“Honestly?” she asked and sniffed and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand as she looked up at him. Oh, that look was so welcome, and it made her heartachingly happy to see that much love in his eyes again. “I needed time, too, even though I never would have thought of it, and never would have asked for it. I didn’t have the words to explain what I meant, which is why I made such a mess of it the first time. People tell you to speak from the heart, but unless your head is in the same place, it doesn’t work. Before, I just felt so guilty for realizing what I had that I needed to clear my conscience, and I didn’t really think things through. It hurt us both to not be near each other, but I think it’s exactly what we needed. It gave me the time to figure out what I meant, and,” she took a deep breath a smiled at him, a real, genuine smile that she actually felt with her whole being, “it let us know that even though we were upset, the love is still there, and we still need and want each other,” she continued, her voice much more steady now.

 

“Don’t worry about the time. I wasn’t asleep. And don’t worry about the rain,” she added with a laugh. “I like it again.”


	3. Epilogue (aka, the only NSFW chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going well between Eugene and Rapunzel after she thoughtfully explained herself to him, but something is still missing between them.

It had been several weeks since the reconciliation that rainy night, and things had pretty much returned to normal. Rapunzel and Eugene could once again be found walking around Corona hand in hand, and sharing quiet moments together, ignoring all of the world but each other.

 

However, they weren’t  _ completely  _ normal, and while their life had once again achieved contentment, it lacked the passion that had tinted their every action leading up to that point. Rapunzel assumed that was just how it was. She knew that couples were known to settle down at some point, no longer needing the fevered intimacy in their everyday lives. She’d heard it was called a ‘honeymoon period,’ which didn’t make much sense to her, since they had yet to be married, and certainly hadn’t gone on a honeymoon, and that it ended for everyone. She assumed that, while it might have been a little premature for them, she’d forced it on them with her confession of her duty. But she was happy, and Eugene was happy, so there wasn’t anything specifically wrong with the situation.

 

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss all the invigorating touches and the passionate way their nights ended before sleep claimed them, but they were together, and that was what really mattered. They were happy.

 

One cool evening found them on her window seat playing string games, where one of them would wind the string between their fingers, and the other would pinch a part of the resulting design, pull and go over or under, sliding the string onto their own fingers and creating a new design. They were joking and laughing and it was fun and funny and warm and special, and Rapunzel was enjoying her time with him immensely. It felt so comfortable!

 

“What are we up to now, eleven?” she asked as she eased the string onto her own slender fingers.”That might be a new record for us!” She appreciated that he didn’t mind playing childish games like this with her, still, and she wondered if it was because he’d also missed out on his childhood.

 

She glanced out the window and saw the beginning of a gorgeous sunset, the kind that stole her breath and made her feel warm in her core. As Eugene’s fingers brushed hers when he took the string, she felt something she hadn’t felt in around two months, and her stomach tightened minutely, sending the heat to her ears.

 

It was nothing, she told herself. Where once, she would have done everything in her power to draw Eugene’s attention to her sudden stirrings, she now ignored them, telling herself not to bother him with things like that. She understood why there was still a gap, no matter how narrow, between them, and she respected his space. It was enough that they were inseparable again.

 

After two weeks of separation and the shifting of perceptions, they’d needed time to find one another again, to get themselves back to the place they’d been before. And for the most part? They were there. They were  _ back _ , and Eugene was so relieved that things were pretty much normal again, that they could sit here on her window seat and laugh and joke and it wasn’t at all forced or awkward.

 

Still, there was an aspect of their relationship that they  _ hadn’t _ yet rekindled. He knew it would come in time, but it hadn’t yet. That ridiculous, burning passion between them; those ‘can’t keep our hands off each other, don’t care if we don’t get any sleep’ moods that had been so frequent. Sure, there’d be a kiss here and there, but it never developed. It didn’t matter, though. As long as they could be together and  _ happy _ again, that was all he cared about. He wouldn’t deny missing that other part of their relationship, but he was certain it’d be back. All they had to do was wait - trying to force it wouldn’t be wise.

 

Today, though. Well. Today it had woken in him. That feeling she gave him, the one that had been dormant for so many weeks now. The one that filled his stomach with warmth and made his fingers twitch with the desire to touch her. It was just little things - when she licked her lips briefly before speaking, or when she brushed her hair aside and revealed more of her neck, or when she looked at him a certain way. He hadn’t said anything, part of him afraid that she wasn’t feeling it too, that maybe it was still too soon for her. He’d respect that, of course. 

 

This string game they were playing, while simple, was a lot more fun than it appeared, and he was more than happy to sit here and play this with her. After all, he’d missed out on many aspects of childhood just like she had. “Yep, eleven. We’re the string masters. History will remember us,” he mused with a grin. As if history wouldn’t  _ already _ remember them, given the fact that she was the (formerly) Lost Princess of Corona, and he the one who brought her home.

 

He took the string, looping it around his fingers, savouring the brush of their skin as he did so. Such a simple thing, but considering what had gone on between them recently? Well, the little things mattered. He swallowed lightly, following her gaze out at the sunset and giving a soft smile; he knew how much she loved pretty sunsets. 

 

He wanted to tell her then. He wanted to look her in the eye and tell her exactly how she’d been making him feel that day, and that he really hoped she felt the same. Fear of rejection kept him quiet for the moment, just trying to focus on the game, although he was visibly distracted as he tried to make a different shape out of the string.

 

“Yep!” she agreed with a bright grin, furtively ignoring the tingle in her skin that happened with every touch. If she were to close her eyes, she was sure she’d see it as spots of blue-white glowing, wherever they made contact. “String Masters. Our claim to fame. That, and nothing else.”

 

She watched his hands work, because if she looked in his eyes, she might not be able to hide how she was feeling, and she didn’t want to pressure him into anything he wasn’t ready for. “Put your ring finger through– no, the other loop,” she suggested. Butterflies. It had been so long since he’d made her feel butterflies, and now it was like a whole flock of them had hatched from their cocoons inside her and were fluttering everywhere. She felt like, every time she spoke, she risked setting them free where he could see them. “There.”

 

She found two good places to pinch the new design, then grabbed from the bottom and moved to the top–

 

and the design promptly fell apart in her hands. She laughed at the loose, designless pile. “I call this one ‘Spaghetti’,” she informed him with a grin.

 

He followed her instructions, guessing she’d done this more than he had and willing to trust her judgment. Plus, he was a little too distracted to be making reliable decisions about intricate string patterns. He moved his ring finger into the loop she indicated, getting it right on the second try. Every movement felt a little slower, the drag of their fingers feeling so familiar and yet somehow new and exciting. Because it really had been far too long.

 

As she pinched the design and pulled, he was prepared to whoop in triumph as they made their  _ twelfth shape– _ but it collapsed. She was just holding a pile of tangled string. And oh, her laugh was incredible and musical and amazing. He’d missed it so much during their separation, and was so pleased when he began to hear it more and more often recently. His heart beat a little faster, just so damn  _ fond _ of her that he couldn’t comprehend it. 

 

He laughed too, right from the belly, head leaning back slightly. “Very funny, Blondie. Here…” He fiddled with the string in her hands (ignoring the weird swooping thing his stomach did), pinching bits until they vaguely resembled small balls among the sea of noodle-type shapes. “ _ Spaghetti  _ **_and_ ** _ meatballs _ ,” he announced, putting on an Italian accent. 

 

She grinned broadly at his antics. “My hero!” she praised. “You salvaged it!” Okay, maybe not really, not  _ technically _ , but it was still silly and fun and felt good.

 

_ It could feel better… _

 

Cool it, Rapunzel.

 

“Wanna keep going with string, or was there something else you’d like to do instead?”

 

There was definitely something else she’d like to do instead, but she pushed that down  _ hard _ . Until she looked out the window at how vibrant the sunset had gotten and actively gasped. “ _ Oh _ …” she breathed. “It’s so  _ beautiful _ .”

 

Towards the west, the sky was streaked in coral and salmon and tangerine and amber, and it was reflecting off the water and spreading through the sky so that the clouds all glowed with golden and pink light. It pulled at her heart and sent thrill after thrill through her, and she was  _ so glad _ Eugene was so close, but he was also so far away. She wished she could do something about it, but strangely, she felt shy. What if he just didn’t want her much anymore? Not her as a person. Clearly, he still valued and enjoyed her company, but what if she’d put a permanent damper on his desire for her?

 

“It looks like it must taste delicious.”

 

He  _ loved _ that they were back here, that they could laugh and joke about the silliest stuff again, just like they used to. Part of him thought they should never have had that separation It was too hard. The other part of him knew that however difficult, it had been necessary at the time, and their understanding now made them stronger. They knew exactly where they stood, and they were learning to be okay with that.

 

So then, why did he still miss her?

 

She asked if there was anything else to do, and his mind flashed upon certain activities. He twitched ever so slightly where he sat, resisting the urge to seize her face and kiss her in place of a real answer. He still hadn’t come up with a response when he was saved the necessity of giving one by her gasp. Oh, her gasp… He looked from her to the sunset. She was right, it was beautiful, but compared to her? It paled. 

 

She watched the sunset; he watched her instead. 

 

“Yeah,” he agreed lightly, swallowing again and just drinking in the sight of her. “Beautiful.” The sunset practically  _ glowed _ \-  _ that  _ thought again summoned all sorts of memories. He knew perfectly well what glowy things did to her. Her comment made him laugh. “You want to taste the  _ sky _ ?”

 

Again, he glanced out at the sun, all the colours that streaked the sky in such pretty and interesting patterns, but it didn’t make him feel a tiny fraction of what she did. His stomach squeezed a little as he looked at her again, and all of a sudden he couldn’t bear not touching her. He wanted to kiss her, but what if she just wasn’t there yet? No, he couldn’t. So instead, he smiled tenderly at her despite her attention being on the sky outside, and rested his hand on top of hers.

 

Her head swam with how much she was resisting just…  _ attacking _ him. A part of her felt so empty without the intimacy in their lives. If her uncertainty and disappointment showed at all, it was just a brief flicker, quickly masked with a bright laugh. “Can you blame me?” she wondered. “It looks like it tastes like rainbow sherbet!”  _ Rainbow Fitzsherbert _ , she mused.

 

The touch of his hand was welcome and exciting, though, and reminded her very much of her eighteenth birthday, when she’d been distracted by the lanterns, and he’d reached out and just… taken her hand, without warning, but silently alerting her to his feelings for her.

 

Was this… like then? Was this his silent cue?

 

Heart racing, she turned her hand under his and linked their fingers, then looked up at him. The way he was looking at her was…  _ amazing _ . Endearing didn’t begin to cover it.  _ The real smolder _ , she’d always called it, the way his eyes bore into her soul and drew her in, and she blinked several times to make sure she wasn’t imagining things.

 

When she was she that he really was looking at her with that adoring intensity, she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed the back softly. Then, on impulse, she also kissed each of his fingertips.

 

She always thought the  _ strangest _ things, but that was okay. He’d never mock or judge her for the slightly bizarre (and very optimistic) way she saw the world - no, he found it endearing. “I guess it does,” he agreed, voice laced with amusement as he spared the sky another fleeting look. 

 

As their fingers linked, he felt a lump in his throat, and he couldn’t have torn his eyes away from her if he’d tried. He’d been about to speak, wanting to voice  _ something _ , only for no sound to come out. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say, just knowing that he needed to tell her  _ something _ . And then her eyes found his and his heart all but melted; he tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, tried to ignore the way something in him felt like it was straining to be closer to her.

 

Her kiss to the back of his hand was a surprise, and he held his breath for a moment, wetting his lips with his tongue and never once looking away from her. And then she kissed each of his fingertips. And he knew. He knew that she was where he was. His eyes slipped closed and he allowed himself to just  _ feel _ her lips against each of his fingertips, a gentle action she’d done so many times before but not within the past two months. 

 

His eyes opened again, and he blinked several times. Bringing his other hand up, he cupped her cheek, his touch featherlight, and let his thumb brush over the swell of her lower lip. His fingertips trailed over her cheekbones, and he was leaning closer without subconsciously deciding to do so. “Rapunzel…” he breathed out, his voice barely there. For a while, he held, unsure whether to break that distance, to kiss her like he’d been dying to do for a long time now or to keep his distance, to hold onto this moment, to maybe figure out what it was he knew he needed to tell her, but couldn’t identify.

 

Oh! That’s what it was! That’s why he hadn’t been able to speak before when he’d tried to tell her. Because words weren’t what was needed right then. They’d spoken all day. They’d spoken for weeks. Now was the time for something else. So he kissed her, catching her lower lip between both of his and rubbing his thumb along the side of hers.

 

The way his eyes closed as she kissed his fingers made her heart seize. She hadn’t seen that look on his face in so long, and she’d always loved it so much. When his thumb touched her lower lip, it parted from the upper, just a small gesture, but she hoped it communicated that she was ready to receive his kiss, should it come. And then her name was on his lips in a way it hadn’t been in ages, and her seized heart began to beat again, rapid as a hummingbird’s wing.

 

He hesitated a moment, and she thought maybe he was having second thoughts, but then he was kissing her, and it might have been the best kiss they’d ever shared. She melted into it, smiling as she did so, and her free hand lifted to rest against his chest, toying with his collar.

 

And then, she realized that she was terrified. This was perfect and exactly what she wanted and needed, but she was terrified of getting it wrong. But that was silly! Her body knew just what to do!

_ But, what if it’s not everything I dream it will be? _ she wondered. And then she smiled, because in her head, in his voice, she heard,  _ It will be _ . She moved a little closer and deepened the kiss.

 

His hand curled to cradle her jaw, gently tilting her head to the perfect angle for their lips to fit together just so. It was instant magic and electricity, unlike any kiss they’d shared since the separation. There was an undercurrent to this one, an exciting buzz of energy that was muted by their gentleness with one another, and the easing uncertainty. 

 

Whatever doubts he’d had about her not being in the same place that he was were wiped from his mind at the way she received his kiss and played with his collar. 

 

As she moved closer and deepened it, he hesitated again before sweeping his tongue against her lips, still slow, still gentle, still ever so tenderly pushing aside the boundaries between them. Squeezing her hand, he unwove their fingers and pushed his hand gently along her thigh instead, coming to rest on her hip, fingers flexing gently. He just loved  _ holding _ her when they were like this. Holding her in his hands and in his arms and feeling that familiar press of her lips, the taste of her that he’d missed so often, the way she awoke a side of him that had been dormant for what felt like forever.

 

The hand on her hip slid to her back, and he shuffled a little closer, pressing their torsos together, desperately wanting more proximity. 

 

He hadn’t touched her like this in ages, and she felt his special brand of magic igniting throughout her. Any stiffness in her began to melt away, soften in his capable hands. She didn’t want to rush things. She wanted the connection to be real and strong, not born of desperation. Anyone could act out of desperation. She wanted this to be  _ them _ .

 

It was hard not to act on that desperation, though when he pulled her closer. It was so familiar, but despite that, they were moving so slowly for them. She felt like someone crawling through the desert, who’d finally gotten that first drink of water, and now she wanted to drown in what he was offering.

 

She let go of his collar and let her fingers slide along with his neck to toy with his hair instead. She’d missed touching his hair like this. She’d still done things like fix it if a lock was astray, but that was far less frequent without her regularly messing it up. Her other hand lifted to his face, and her fingers brushed along the coarse five o’clock shadow on his jawline, her fingertips glancing against his earlobe. Now that they’ve started touching again, she wanted to touch it all.

 

It would be so easy to rush this. All he’d have to do would be to let himself get swept up in this feeling, and in no time at all they’ve have satisfied this growing desire, this feeling of simple  _ want _ between them. But no. It shouldn’t be quick and done so soon. This was… important. This was them rediscovering each other in this way after  _ far _ too long.

 

The way she touched him, explorative fingers so gentle, made him shiver slightly against her, smiling into the kiss for a moment or two. It was such a relief to be back in this place for her, and to find out that the feeling that’d been growing inside him all day was mutual after all. It wasn’t as difficult as he thought it’d be, though, to keep this slow. Because he  _ wanted _ it slow. He wanted to take his time with her and reacquaint themselves as tenderly and thoroughly as possible. Nothing should be rushed, and he didn’t feel the  _ need _ for this to be any faster-paced.

 

His hands began to wander again, one rubbing up and down her back while the other slid back from her cheek into her hair, curling in her locks and holding her close. That was when he realised he’d hardly breathed since he started kissing her. He broke off for a moment or two, just to take in a couple of breaths, before looking back at her. She looked amazing like this, so close to him,  _ clearly _ wanting him the way he wanted her… wow. That was all he could think. His lips found hers again; he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

 

In the brief pause between kisses, she exhaled a soft laugh. He always forgot to breathe when he was really into kissing her, and it was  _ flattering _ , and she loved it.

 

Her thumbs moved up to brush his cheekbones before he kissed her again, and she moved just as easily in to it as she’d been before. She was so in love with him, and so happy that she was. She pulled away just long enough to breathe his name, a prayer on her lips, like she’d said it so many times before but no time recently, and then her lips were soft and lazy and exploratory on his, remembering exactly what shape they were, and exactly what he tasted like. It was like coming home.

 

The way she breathed his name, as usual, got to him more than it should. He’d always adored it, because it was his  _ real _ name and she was the only one who had ever said it in such a way, and the first to ever prefer Eugene over Flynn. Hearing a reminder of that in the way she so tenderly whispered his name? Yeah, it definitely had an effect on him. 

 

For a while, their kiss stayed there, just soft and slow and explorative, reconciling with one another and remembering every touch and taste and feel. He never wanted to be separated from her that way ever again. Already, he could feel the kiss taking over, everything around them dimming and everything that was  _ her _ filling his senses instead. Eventually, his kisses venture, moving away from her lips, across her cheek and finding her ear. There, he kissed again, then nibbled at her earlobe. “Hey, Blondie?” he whispered, voice low. His hands dragging down her sides again, and along her thighs. “I love you. So much.”

 

He beat her to the punch. She had been getting ready to wander away from his tempting, tasty lips, but he’d made the first move. She adored it. She adored him.

 

His breath was hot in her ear and his voice, so low, and his touch, so sensual, made her shiver with desire. “I love you too,” she responded, feeling the words so strongly right now. “I always have.”

 

There was too much fabric between them, so she adjusted her skirt, pulling the hem up to better expose her legs to his wandering hands. She’d always loved how they wandered. Then, emboldened by her own exposure, she carefully, cautiously, ran her hands down his chest until her fingers met the top fastened buckle of his doublet, and began to unbuckle. She went slow, both because she wasn’t in a hurry, and to give him time to change his mind, and tell her that he wasn’t ready for that much yet.

 

But Fates, she hoped he was.

 

He could feel her shiver against him,  _ knew _ it was because of his voice. She’d told him so many times how much she loved it, especially when it lowered and spoke in her ear. As she pulled up her skirt, he swallowed, kissing again at her earlobe before pushing his face against her neck, dragging his lips below her jaw, delighting in the natural, subtle, sunshiney scent of her. That was the best way to describe it, as far as he was concerned - she smelled the way sunshine  _ felt _ . 

 

Exploratory hands took her silent invitation, brushing up her thighs, keeping his movements slow and enjoying the contrast of his calloused palms against her soft skin. He felt her hands move too, and paused for a moment in his kissing of her neck to feel what she was doing. As she undid the first buckle of his doublet, though, he smiled into her neck and resumed his kissing, more than happy to reduce the layers between them. 

 

A hand pulled away from her leg, holding the side of her neck instead while he kissed down the other side. He stopped at the curve where her neck met her shoulder and left a slow bite there, sucking softly as he pulled away but not enough to mark. He thought he’d been feeling desire for her all day, but that was  _ nothing _ compared to what he was feeling for her right now. 

 

She hadn’t exactly forgotten but also very much  _ had  _ forgotten what it felt like to have his lips explore her skin, the column of her throat, her shoulder and clavicle. She was so intoxicated on his kisses that she almost didn’t notice his pause until a more lucid her would have deemed it too late. But it didn’t matter, because she  _ felt _ him smile and then he resumed, and all was well.

 

His calloused hands came in direct contact with the skin of her legs and she exhaled a sigh of pleasure as she worked on his buckles. It was still all so slow and sensual, and that made it all the more amazing. It reminded her of their first time ever exploring each other in any capacity, all cautious and curious touches.

 

And then, mid-way through his third buckle, she gasped as he bit. It wasn’t a hard bite, not by any means, but he knew what it did to her, and he was playing her like the long-atticked instrument of an expert musician. Perhaps it was a bit dusty, and needed some TLC, but he was making her sing.

 

They’d been out of touch with each other in this sense for such a long time, and he couldn’t bear the thought of so much wasted time. Then again, if they’d learned and grown from it… was it really wasted? Maybe not. This was certainly a much more fun way to spend their time, though, and he smiled all over again, against her shoulder this time.

 

He knew exactly how to get to her. They’d spent so long mapping one another out, learning each other inside out until they were  _ experts  _ in one another. He’d not forgotten any of that for one single second. Her gasp sent a little jolt of electricity through him, and he let out a shaky breath against her skin, swallowing and easing his tongue over the bitten flesh to soothe it. He drew back, a hand running through her hair while the other moved further up her thigh, thumb pressing and rubbing circles against the sensitive skin. 

 

And he just looked at her.

 

His eyes were half-lidded, his lips ever so slightly parted as he watched her, marveling at everything she was, everything she sounded, looked and felt like. He adored her without conditions or omissions. 

 

She finished his buckles and looked up, meeting his gaze once more. And she smiled. A warm, bright smile, one that told him how much she loved him. She rested one hand on the one that was on her thigh, and hooked a finger in the collar of his shirt.

 

“You’re amazing,” she told him, drawing him closer. She lifted her foot off the floor and draped it along the window seat, across his leg and behind him. “I never forgot how amazing you are.”

 

Once she’d finished with his buckles, he was about to skip the doublet off straight away, but she quickly distracted him with her hand on his and the finger hooked in his collar. Once she pulled him closer, he smiled, gaze moving from her eyes to her lips and back again. “Yeah?” he murmured, leaning their foreheads together and nudging his nose against hers. “You’re just as amazing. Maybe more. I didn’t forget… I don’t think I could if I wanted to.” And he certainly  _ didn’t _ forget. He  _ never _ wanted to forget her or the way she made him feel.

 

The hand on her thigh gripped slightly rather than just resting, his fingers pressing against her skin. Her lips were so close, and he wasn’t about to ignore them; he kissed her again, pushing her lips apart with his own and letting out a small, contented sound as he tilted his head, pressing himself closer. He shrugged out of the doublet, casting it aside and then bringing his hands straight back to her upper right thigh and her cheek.

 

She felt like she was melting into him. Each kiss was better, easier, more natural than the last, and she closed her hand, fisting it in his shirt. That little sound drove her absolutely crazy, and she scootched the last bit of distance between them.

 

“Hey,” she breathed against his lips. “Remember that first night we saw each other without clothes? Remember how amazing it was. How curious I was?” She thumbed his top button open, but otherwise kept her grip on his shirt.  “Remember all my questions?”

 

Of course he remembered. How could he forget such a monumentous and amazing night? “Mmm,” he hummed in response, nodding minutely and wondering if she was going anywhere with this, or simply recalling a happy memory. “Your questions were adorable. I remember being so ridiculously smitten…”

 

He could feel them getting more and more normal, all of the old familiarity coming rushing back. Ohhh, he adored her, adored this, adored  _ them _ . The hand that was on her thigh moved, thumb sweeping down to trace teasingly against her upper thigh, just out of interest to see how she’d react. And because he loved touching her. He returned to their kiss, taking her lower lip between his teeth and dragging her mouth back to his, smiling into it.

 

Rapunzel whimpered softly at the one-two combo of the touch and bite kiss. She let go of his shirt to drape her arms over his shoulders, but she didn’t sit still long, and soon had one hand on the back of his neck and the other pushed up into his hair. She wanted him. She wanted him so  _ badly _ , and she knew she would have him tonight, probably in the same slow, sensual way they’d been kissing this whole time.

 

She hooked her straight leg around his waist and pulled herself tight against him. She was so glad they were on the same page with this, so glad that neither of them were having to swallow down feelings and desires that had the potential to be unreciprocated.

 

She sucked on his tongue pulled on his lip with her teeth, eager to show him that she was completely in the moment with him.

 

Her whimper shot through him; he instantly wished they were closer, wished they’d started this earlier rather than being too cautious to say or do anything. He  _ loved _ it when she touched his hair - or better, sunk her hands in and grabbed, the slight tug making him grin against her lips. 

 

Once she’d wound a leg around his waist and pulled herself closer, it was difficult to keep touching her thigh, so he ran his hands up and down her back instead, then her shoulders and arms, then her sides, palms moulding to every curve. At the suck and the bite, he let out the ghost of a moan, bringing a hand back to tangle in her hair. Already, the kiss was really building - it was still tender, but their hesitation was slowly slipping away as they revisited this familiar territory for the first time in so long, and Eugene was more than happy to get swept up in this feeling.

 

That sound,  _ that  _ **_sound!_ ** What in the world gave one person the right to be so damn sexy? A part of her wanted to rush along to the next part, but she didn’t want to skip any steps. It was so important that this was done completely and done  _ right _ , that the bond was fully restored.

 

But there was one thing they were missing, and she knew what it was.

 

“So, I guess we’re done with string games for tonight?” she teased. She’d always loved that they could chit chat and banter while still getting each other worked up, or even during sex.

 

When she spoke, he drew back a little so he could look at her properly, his expression soft, eyes tender; he licked his lower lip before one side of his mouth pulled into a smile. Part of him was surprised she’d spoken - not because they didn’t usually, but because, uncharacteristically, they’d barely said a word. 

 

He’d missed their silly little conversations.

 

“Guess we are,” he agreed with the hint of a laugh in his voice. “Unless we… combine the two. But that could get pretty hazardous.” His voice had slowed then, to an almost cautious pace because of what he was implying. Sure, their kisses and their touches were pretty clearly heading in that direction, but neither of them had yet confirmed that fact out loud. Though maybe he just had. A hand brushed slowly through her hair above her ear; he just looked at her, eyes half-lidded, a mix of desire and simple adoration. 

 

Every time he proved once again that they were on the same page, Rapunzel felt a surge of affection for this wonderful, charming, handsome,  _ perfect  _ man. He need not have worried, because her smile said it all; they were heading in the same direction with intent of the same destination.

 

She closed her eyes briefly and leaned into his touch, then turned her head and kissed his hand.

 

“I mean… we could always use my  _ hair  _ instead of string,” she hazarded casually. They’d talked about it many times, and the idea clearly excited both of them, but it just hadn’t happened yet, and now was probably not the time to try. “Or, we could just be us, no gimmicks.”

 

Admittedly, he was super into the idea of using her hair for a variety of bedroom-themed antics. But this time? No gimmicks, for sure. This was about them and only them, and about reconnecting. It needed to be more about them coming back together physically and emotionally rather than trying anything wild and new. Another time, though.

 

So he smiled gently, tracing his fingertips over her cheek and leaning in to press his lips to hers, then trailing along her cheekbone. “No gimmicks. Not this time,” he said softly, voice just a breath. “Definitely gotta try that soon, though, huh?” he added more playfully and drew back again. He ran his hands along her arms until he met her hands, and tangled their fingers together. 

 

It was so nice to be able to pause and have these little tender moments, despite the desire thrumming insistently through his veins. 

 

Soon. If they were already planning on future encounters, then that meant things were going well with him, too. She smiled, squeezing his hands. “Soon,” she agreed, feeling so warm and happier than she’d felt in a long time, which was saying something, because they’d been so happy together lately.

 

“I love you, Eugene. So much. You’re everything to me.” And he was. A part of her hated and resented that she had to be Princess Rapunzel when she just wanted to be Eugene’s Rapunzel.

 

If this feeling right now was anything to go by, then the two of them were absolutely fine. Everything had been understood, they had worked through their issues and now they were working past that narrow physical barrier that the separation had laid between them. And good riddance to it, too.

 

”I love you too, sweetheart.” Everything? Well, he wasn’t everything to  _ Princess _ Rapunzel, but that was okay because he was everything to  _ Rapunzel _ . With this new understanding, that was enough for him. His eyes dropped to her lips again, and he couldn’t resist surging forward and claiming her lips again, his kiss so strong that he leaned her back slightly with the intensity of it. “So much…” he murmured, holding her face in his palms.

 

With a breathless giggle, she got ahold of his shirt again and, as she returned the kiss, she pulled him down farther until she was laying back on the window seat, his beautiful face hovering over her, and her loose hair pooled around her face and spilling down onto the floor, like a golden waterfall and river flowing away from them. “Show me…” she breathed. “Show me how much you love me.”

 

She knew how much it was, but she just loved their banter so much. She loved that they each pretended not to know. And she loved that, a few months ago, not knowing had been an actual problem and it just wasn’t anymore.

 

His eyes widened as she dragged him down, and a hand shot out to catch himself before he fell face first onto her. “Easy, tiger,” he chuckled, but they both knew that he adored her manhandling him. How could he not? She was so cute and confident.

 

She knew how much he loved her. He  _ knew _ that she knew, but if she wanted a physical display? He wasn’t going to deny her that. His lips were slow on hers, but what the kiss lacked in speed, it made up for in passion. “Only if you show me, too,” he countered with a brief wink, going to kiss liberally at her neck again, soft with the teeth and heavy on the tongue.

 

She whimpered softly into the kiss, getting exactly what she wanted from him. She exhaled a shaky breath and a whispered, “Promise…” And then his lips and tongue were on her skin and she was working the buttons of his shirt, ready to get more of his skin exposed to her touch. 

 

Her whimper just fuelled the fire that was burning inside him, pushing him to give her neck rather more vigorous kisses, letting out a little breath after every one. Yeah, she was working him up pretty well without even needing to do a whole lot. As she went back to his buttons, he lifted himself off of her slightly so she could reach between them for his shirt. A hand slipped down, pushing her skirt up again so he could drag one of her knees to hitch up on his hip. He bit sharply at her neck, keen to give her all those things he knew she loved. She could ask for anything right then, and she’d get it.

 

Rapunzel gasped harshly when he bit, and her head swam with the sudden surge of desire. He already had her so worked up that they could agree to penetration  _ right now _ and he’d probably slide in with ease. It felt like all the desire she hadn’t been allowing herself to feel the past two months was all waiting in reserve for this moment.

 

She got his shirt open, and her hands dove in, touching, rubbing, even pulling at his skin and scratching. She wanted him flush against her, and she wanted him out where she could actually touch him. With her knee hitched up against his hip, she leaned up and nipped at his shoulder, licking up the curve of his neck.

 

Dammit, this was getting difficult. Her sounds were so utterly  _ beautiful _ that he could hardly stand it; every tiny utterance from her sent his heart racing even faster than it already was, which was no mean feat. He felt his shirt fall open as she got the last button unfastened, and then her warm, soft hands going their merry way along the planes of his chest and stomach.

 

And then the scratching; his breath caught. She  _ knew _ what that did to him. Her bite earned a soft hum of appreciate; her lick, a shaky murmur of her name. His eyes closed, just feeling her tongue against his neck, a hand flexing against her leg while the other cupped the back of her neck, keeping her close. She really did know how to get to him.

 

And now he was making so many delicious sounds, it was driving her crazy. How much more foreplay until they both broke? She  _ loved  _ it when he said her name like that, like there was literally nothing else in the world he could possibly think to say.

 

“You,” she breathed, in his ear, then licked, and nibbled on his lobe. He was everything, and she regretted still ever making him feel like he wasn’t. He was the only person in the whole world for her and their time apart had been so difficult. She never wanted to make him doubt again, and despite the emotional reconciliation, she still felt like she had a lot of making up to do. She’d start here, cherishing everything about him with every sense she owned.

 

It was strange, but he could  _ feel _ her love. It was so apparent in not only her voice, but the grasp of her hands, the press of her lips, the drag of her tongue, the way her body moulded perfectly against his. He didn’t hold against her what he’d learned two months ago. All those doubts seemed so distant now as he practically  _ basked _ in her adoration. How could he possibly doubt her?

 

The way her breath hit his ear brought a shiver from him, and he leaned instinctively closer to her as she nibbled at his earlobe, lips parting, eyes closed, a silent expression of pleasure. He shifted on top of her - and deliberately shifted his hips a whole lot as he did so - to sit up slightly, shrugging out of his shirt properly. He leaned over her again, and a tender palm stroked down her face, the side of her neck, her shoulder, over her breast and down her stomach, before settling at her waist with an affectionate squeeze. His breathing was becoming more and more audible, his entire body warmer and feeling like it was straining towards her.

 

The press of his hips earned him another whimper, and she ground against him both instinctively and deliberately. She wanted him to know what she was feeling (as if he couldn’t guess) and wanted to deliver him the same kind of pleasure.

 

Delighted as she was that he was now shirtless, she couldn’t help but giggle again. “It’s not often we find ourselves here and you’ve got on less clothes than me,” she mused.

 

She captured his lips in a heated kiss.as he caressed her, and she felt his hand touch places that it had been avoiding for months. It felt like heaven, and she moaned softly into the kiss.

 

Her grinding felt like it sent sparks through him, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth. It was true that the most important aspect of their relationship was the emotional side, but the physical side? It just amplified all those emotions. It made him feel closer to her than he had for months now, and he could barely keep up with how his head was  _ already _ spinning.

 

She had a point there, and he grinned against her lips, before that smile slowly melted away in favour of better returning her kiss. “Hmm… true, Blondie. But that’s easily fixed.” He sat up slowly, pulling her with him and finding her lips again as he pushed them both to a stand. For a while, he stood there, palms braced against her back as they kissed. It wasn’t long, though, before a hand had moved over to start tugging at the lacing of her bodice.

 

She was torn between letting him undress her himself and getting her clothes off all the faster. She decided to split the difference. After all, she’d unbuckled his doublet and unbuttoned his shirt, but he’d been the one to shrug out of them. Once he’d gotten it loose enough, she’d do the rest, and gladly.

 

And in the meantime, his lips were a delightful distraction. She kept the kisses light and soft for now, so he wouldn’t get so lost that he’d forget how laces worked.

 

His movements weren’t rushed, but nor was he dallying; he was just as keen as she was for her dress to be off, for them to be a step closer to being skin on skin. His lips moved against hers, slow and bordering on casual as he focused on loosening the ties of her dress. As soon as they were loose, he eased the garment off of her shoulders, totally unaware of her original plan to slip it off herself.

 

He leaned in, mouthing languidly at the newly revealed skin of her shoulder as he pulled her dress down further. And he followed, moving down until he was kneeling on the floor, pulling her dress down past her hips and letting it pool at her feet. Looking up at her with something close to reverence, he held the backs of her legs in his hands and kissed over her knee, and up her thigh.

 

Oh.  _ Oh! _ She hadn’t been expecting it to be quite like this, but she couldn’t deny that she adored it, adored  _ him _ , adored how he looked up at her, his brown eyes a fiery gold in the remaining light of the setting sun. She tenderly traced the lines of his face, drawing her finger down his handsome nose as his lips caressed skin that was rarely explored. She was so in love with him, so in awe of how he could read her like a book.

 

“I love you.” The words were barely audible, a hint of sound on her breath, but so true.  _ So  _ true.

 

How was kissing someone this way and receiving no direct pleasure of his own still so amazing and intoxicating? He had no idea, but kissing her like this was just making him want her all the more. And hearing her voice, so soft and sincere breathing out those words lifted the hairs on his arms. He trailed his kisses up and his hands too; they moved to squeeze playfully at her butt as his lips dragged up her hip. He paused to bite and suck at her hipbone, before traveling further up, paying attention to each individual rib and then venturing up her shoulder. His arms wound around her waist as his wandering mouth once again found hers, all slow and sensual and amazing. “I love you, too.”

 

She exhaled shakily as his lips caressed a wandering line up her body. She wanted him, oh, how she wanted him, and he was only making it worse. Better? Either way, it was wonderful, and her head was swimming by the time he reached her lips again.

 

She took his hands and led him toward the bed, walking backwards and stepping out of her dress as she did. The bed…  _ their  _ bed. They slept in it together more often than not, and it felt so empty when he wasn’t there. It wasn’t just her bed, and she had no problem with that.

 

She climbed on, rising up on her knees to be minutely taller than she usually was beside him. She focused her next kisses on his chest, breathing his scent deeply with every inhale, and exhaling hotly on the wet trail her kisses were leaving behind.

 

As she took his hands, he followed, ready (as always) to follow wherever she might lead him. His eyes didn’t leave hers, even as he kicked off his boots on the way over to her bed. He’d been about to sit down beside her, but then she’d risen up on her knees and started kissing his chest, and he sighed out contentedly. 

 

He weaved his fingers into her hair, palm resting against the back of her head while his other rubbed aimlessly at her back. The sound and feeling of her breath hitting was just as amazing as the kisses themselves. Nothing could pull him from her tonight. Frederic could burst in here with every guard he had, and he wouldn’t budge. Not tonight. Not when they needed this, not just on a physical level but an emotional one, too. 

 

Funny. Earlier tonight, she would have said she was perfectly happy, perfectly content. It wouldn’t have been a lie, exactly, but it definitely would have been uninformed. Until now, Rapunzel hadn’t been aware of how happy and content she  _ could be _ again.

 

Her kisses were slow against his skin, and she covered the expanse between his two shoulders, then slowly up the side of his neck. When she reached his jaw, she pulled away and kneeled on the bed.

 

“Eugene?” she murmured softly, and for a moment, emotion overtook her and her eyes misted over. “You’re my best.” She told him she loved him all the time, but when was the last time she’d expressed it that way?

 

Her kisses were heavenly. He loved it when they were slow with each other, and in this scenario, it was even more perfect. This wasn’t just them wanting each other or being desperate at all. This was them physically reconciling after  _ months,  _ reclaiming the final part of their relationship that they’d lost for a while. Right up until now.

 

He leaned into her lips, his eyes closing until she pulled away and said his name; he looked down at her, tilting his head quizzically. Then she spoke, and his heart  _ melted _ . “… Rapunzel,” he spoke on an exhale. That was one of  _ their  _ things, something that might make sense to other people but not  _ fully _ . And he hadn’t heard it for over two months now. “… You’re mine too, Blondie,” he told her, voice catching in his throat. He leaned down, cupping her face in her palms and kiss her again, just as slowly as she’d been kissing his chest and neck. 

 

She covered his hands on her face with her own, kissing him back with all the love she possessed, and goodness, was it a  _ lot _ . There was nothing in this world she wanted more than him, and it was as if she could  _ feel  _ the last vestiges of their problem close and heal. There was no problem, because they were each other’s best, each other’s dream, and that was all that mattered. Rapunzel could choose the kingdom’s safety over Eugene’s a thousand times, and he’d always know her heart and mind were with him, and that she’d hate the choice every step she took. He understood now,  _ really  _ understood, and that meant everything.

 

Her hands left his to unfasten his pants, and she slid them down as he kissed her with the same reverence that he’d removed her dress.

 

It was done. They were far enough gone, now, that the invisible, narrow barrier they’d both been feeling between them? It had crumbled away to nothing, and they’d found one another in its absence. He didn’t break the kiss as he felt her hands move down to his pants. If anything, his lips intensified against hers, sucking luxuriously at her lower lip, more than willing to indulge in as much of her as he could, and make her feel as good as possible at the same time. His thumbs brushed along her cheekbones, and he nipped at her lip before sinking back into the kiss with a small sound of contentment. Being like this with her for the first time in two months? It honestly felt like coming home. 

 

It would be up to him to get his pants off the rest of the way, but she hooked her finger in his underwear and pulled him forward, while also backing away, encouraging him onto the bed with her now. This was perfect. He was perfect, and she couldn’t be more in love with him if she tried. And yet, she knew he’d find a way. Somehow, he’d get her to be more in love with him. He always managed to find a way.

 

As she pulled him towards her, he quickly got out of his pants, kicking them aside and following her blatant hint. He climbed on the bed, leaning over her as he did so, resting a hand on the covers beside her while the other rested against her neck, tilting her head so he could kiss her silly. It was always a turn on when she tugged or guided or pushed or basically did anything to encourage him to do what she wanted, or to express her eagerness. Or both. Right then, he thought he couldn’t possibly be happier. 

 

She was ready for him. Ready for the last step. It felt easy as breathing, being this close and intimate with him now. All hesitation was gone, all trepidation and fear. She kept herself propped up with one arm and tangled the other hand in his lusciously thick and silky hair. Fates, she loved his hair. And his smile. His eyes, his nose , his breath, his breath, his heartbeat,  _ him _ .

 

Releasing his hair, she slid her hand down his neck, shoulder, chest, past his stomach, and then unhesitatingly into his underwear, feeling him up and making herself all the more eager by finding out how hard he was. “Now?” she wondered breathlessly.

 

As her hand tangled in his hair, he shuddered every so slightly with pleasure; he  _ loved _ when she had her hands in his hair, twisting or pulling or brushing through it. He shifted over her as they kissed, getting a comfier position and dragging his hand down the side of her neck, adoring the feel of her skin, skin he hadn’t touched this way for months.

 

Her hand dragged lower, and he smiled, nuzzling into her cheek, loving the way she touched him, and— oh! And lower still. He felt her hand slipping beneath his underwear and touching him for the first time in  _ two damn months _ , and he let out a shaking breath. “Sounds like a plan,” he whispered back, swallowing audibly and cupping her face and kissing her again, still nice and slow and feeling every single sensation, drinking everything in with all his senses.

 

Feeling like she was drowning in the blissful kiss, Rapunzel lowered herself the rest of the way to the bed and slid off her own panties, then discarded them carelessly aside.

 

She would be lying if she she said she wasn’t nervous, but it was a good kind. The thrill of anticipation. It reminded her very much of their first time together, with the fireflies dancing overhead. She remembered how her heart had hammered then, and delighted in the echo of the same sensation now.

 

Bared naked before him for the first time in months, feeling his caresses and his love in a way she hadn’t felt in ages, her breath caught in her throat and she let out the softest whimper. She wanted him so badly it was actually uncomfortable to  _ not  _ have him inside her.

 

He shifted again, lifting his weight off of her so she could remove her panties. Once she’d done so, though, he broke off their kiss, leaning his lips against her ear instead. “ _ I _ wanted to do that,” he told her, voice a low, playful growl.

 

But he hadn’t seen her naked in two months, and hell if he was gonna waste any of this moment. So he drew back, shifting off of her so he could just gaze at her. She was absolutely  _ beautiful _ , the low light picking out little aspects of her body, a body he knew like the back of his hand and had missed so badly it sometimes hurt. Her whimper sent a thrill through him; he rested warm palms against her shoulders, his lower lip gently caught by his teeth as he drank in the sight of her. 

 

His hands dragged down, cupping at her breasts and squeezing ever so gently, as if she were something precious and fragile. They explored further still, running down her waist, her sides, her legs, feeling every inch of her he could. “I love you so much…” he breathed out, and he sounded  _ stunned _ . 

 

“Sorry,” she exhaled, and smiled gently up at him. If she’d known, she would have let him; she would have loved it to be him. But she was far too eager at this point.

 

Even so, he stopped to admire, and it had been a long time since his gaze had made her blush. But blush she now did, the color tinting her cheeks and ears. His touch was warming and soothing, and made her feel as beautiful as he saw her.

 

“I love you too, Eugene,” she breathed. “So much.”

 

Even the way he looked at her now was stunning, and she didn’t know what she was going to do with herself if he kept it up. So she crooked her finger invitingly, hoping to draw him in again.

 

Her blush had always delighted him. She was so  _ cute  _ and so wonderful and so gorgeous and so breathtaking and  _ he! He _ was the one who got to be with her! What a damn lucky son of a bitch. As she beckoned, he grinned and complied, lowering himself once again and sliding his tongue between her lips with a soft sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan. He pressed his groin against her thigh, just so she could feel  _ exactly _ what she was doing to him, and know that she wasn’t the only one who was eager.

 

The kiss didn’t last, though, as curiosity got the better of him and his lips began to travel. Slow, soft presses of his lips and tongue made their way down her body, over her stomach, down her thigh. And then, with a glance back up at her, he moved between her legs, licking at her wetness. Oh! 

 

He’d known she was eager and ready for this, but  _ that _ eager?  _ That _ ready? Well, that just served to fill him with even  _ more _ desire for her. His dick was so hard now that it was starting to hurt, and he let out a ‘hmmmm’ of appreciation against her. With a final flick of his tongue against her clitoris, he drew back, sitting up on his knees now and looking down at her with a shaking breath. He gestured to his underwear. “D’you wanna do the honours, Blondie? I mean, I’d hate to  _ deprive _ you,” he played, and leaned into to kiss and bite at her side, her hipbone, her stomach.

 

She inhaled audibly at the press of his bulge against her thigh, and exhaled with a soft sound. It was getting harder to keep her voice low, but she knew the consequences, and having to be quiet also meant that there was still something sultry and gentle about all this, and even though her body was begging for a pounding - even more so, once his tongue slipped up her slit at he hummed his desire against her sensitive clit - emotionally, she still wanted the slowness. There was something special about it. They were so close, closer than they’d been in ages, and she really wanted that closeness to remain through this, to grow stronger.

 

“Well, if you insist,” she mused. She sat up slowly, her eyes raking down his body. He was so beautiful, and he was all hers. She had more of him than any other woman ever had, because he loved her, and that was a first for him.

 

She pressed her lips and tongue to his stomach and nipped at his skin as she dragged his underwear down. and as soon as his cock was revealed to her, all swollen and hard, her mouth moved there, a slow drag down, following the path of his underwear.

 

He moved for her, leaning back on his hands so he was sort of half-lying down, just to make it easier for her to divest him of his underwear. And she did it so amazingly; his breath caught at the feeling of her lips and teeth against his stomach. He  _ loved _ kisses there and hadn’t felt them for what felt like forever. It really had been far too long, and he was so,  _ so  _ glad that they were finally reuniting in this way. He’d missed her so much. 

 

It was a relief when his dick was freed, the strain lifted, and he sighed. The sigh quickly turned into a light, breathy moan though at the feeling of her mouth against his member. Oh damn. Did this feel better than he remembered? Or was this just  _ better _ than all the times before? Either way, it felt incredible, and his heart was beating ever faster. He brought a hand down to rest on the back of her head, his touch gentle just as everything else he’d done this evening had been. 

 

Once she’d made her way all the way down his member, she let her tongue dart out to lick the entirely different textured and temperatured balls. Then, she pressed a sweet kiss to just the tip. “Sit, please,” she breathed, and her tongue darted out for another short lick, followed by another kiss. They’d played long enough. It was time for more, and she ached for him so. She’d missed him so much, and loved him more, and needed this last, final bridge crossed. “I want to be in your lap and in your arms.”

 

Dammit, she knew  _ exactly _ what he liked - he moaned as she licked his balls, then kissed the head of his dick. He was such a goner. He  _ ached _ for her, every muscle in his body feeling like it was pulled taut and straining towards her, wanting her so badly it hurt. He was quick to do as she asked, sitting up and gazing down at her, eyes half-lidded. Oh, he loved her. More than he could ever find a way to tell her. After having seen for himself just how desperate she was for this, he almost felt bad for dragging it out the way he had. 

 

She rose on her knees and moved toward him until she was straddling his lap, gazing down at him with all her love and lust shining in her eyes. It was a heady concoction to be feeling in her veins and her mouth practically watered, knowing she was about to have her craving fulfilled at last.

 

“I love you,” she whispered again, and then positioned him against her opening and sunk down, whimpering softly as she felt him fill her at last. Once she was fully seated, she swayed her hips slowly to get him as deeply inside her as she could, resting her forehead on his shoulder and breathing hard.

 

It was  _ good _ .  _ So good! _ She didn’t know if it was better than it had ever been before or if she just needed him all the more right now. “Fuck,” she breathed against his skin, almost completely overwhelmed in this first, slow stroke.

 

He gazed right back at her. Right now, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to look away if he tried, too enraptured by that look in her eyes. “I know,” he whispered back as she told him she loved him. He did know. And after what they’d been through recently? It was  _ important  _ that he knew, and that she knew he did. “I love you, too.” 

 

But then she’d taken him in her hand, lined him up and sunk down on him, and he let out a long breath, eyes closing.  _ Fuck _ , this felt good. He’d missed her so much, missed everything that came with being with her this way and everything that they were together.  He leaned his cheek into her hair as she rested her head on his shoulder, swallowing and absolutely  _ relishing _ in the feel of her around him. “Blondie…” he sighed, bringing his hands to clutch her hips.

 

He nudged his nose against her cheek, waiting for her look at him before leaning in to kiss her. It was slow, still, but there was the edge to it. It all felt  _ so _ good, and that was reflected in the way he kissed her. 

 

She kissed him back, holding his face in her hands, and let her hips be still for a moment. It almost felt like she was a thermometer, and that sliding him inside her was displacing her emotional mercury, making it rise up all the faster. And then, tongues slowly entwined, she started to move.

 

Just like the kiss, her hips were slow, her movements shallow. She wanted to keep him inside her, needed the connection to remain. This wasn’t a time for fast and hard, but for the significance of the gesture, them finally being of one mind again.

 

Her movements prompted a small sound from the back of his throat. With everything so slow and yet so  _ good _ , he was actually able to keep hold of his thoughts, to  _ appreciate _ this for exactly what it was. It was a reconnection. It was them crossing that final barrier, and once again becoming what they’d been before - maybe even stronger than before. It was… home. 

 

He slowly moved his hands up to her face, stroking along her cheeks and then cradling her jaw. “I missed you,” he whispered, opening his eyes just slightly so he could look at her, his brows drawn up in pleasure. “I missed you so much…” He brushed her hair back from her face, nudging his nose against hers before sinking back in for another unhurried kiss. 

 

At his whispered confession, though she’d heard it before, this very evening even, the emotional mercury rose again, dangerously close to spilling over. She breathed his name moments before their lips met again, and she felt like she was about to break.

 

She felt his jaw work, felt him inside her, all of it slow and unhurried, a bonding experience she had wished for but not dared to hope for.

 

And then, she pulled from the kiss and threw her arms around him, pressing her face against the curve of his neck. “I missed you too!” she whispered, and the tears spilled over. “I missed you so much. I’m so, so sorry. I love you so much!”

 

Her hips moved faster and she held him tighter and cried. “I love you, Eugene. I love you. I’m okay, I promise, I’m just… I’m feeling so much!”

 

As she hugged him and hid her face in his neck, his arms wound tightly around her, his hips lifting every so often but really, just focusing more on holding her. And then he felt her tears. Immediately, he was on alert, ready to shift her off of him, sure that he’d hurt her or said something wrong, or…

 

His hands fussed, going to her shoulders and pulling her gently back, only so he could take her face in his hands and look for any sign of pain or doubt or regret. But he didn’t see anything. His worry settled as she explained herself, and he breathed out slowly, returning his arms to around her waist and screwed his eyes shut, partly with the emotion of it all and partly because she’d sped up a little, and it felt amazing. 

 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay… I gotcha, Blondie…”

 

It was okay. It was okay to be crying in his arms while their bodies rocked together. He had her, and it was okay. “I need you forever,” she whispered. “I’ll never let this happen again. It’s you and me, always. You’re my best, and without you, I’m my worst.”

 

Her hips were doing a lot, more than simple up and down. There was a lot of swaying, both back and forth and side to side, almost as though she was dancing there on his lap. She wanted him to feel everything, everything he’d missed because of her stupid actions. She poured her heart and soul into need, needing his pleasure even more than her own.

 

It was all okay. It hadn’t been for a little while, but they’d fixed it, and everything was okay.  _ More _ than okay. Her words touched him more than he’d ever have expected, and he held her closer, burying his face in the side of her neck. 

 

“You and me,” he agreed, his voice shaking because of all the little things her hips were doing. It all felt amazing, and his fingers pressed into her back. He leaned away ever so slightly, and found her lips again, sucking on her lower one. “You’re my best,” he echoed. She was. What had he been without her, even briefly? Miserable. Barely even himself. Her hips were getting to him now, and he felt the pleasure build a little, still slow thanks to their easy rhythms. 

 

She exhaled a soft laugh into the kiss, the tears still spilling down her cheeks, though in a much slower trickle. She couldn’t be happier right now, she thought. She loved how he held her, how he felt inside her, how close they were both physically and emotionally.

 

“And,” she murmured, “as a side note, you feel amazing.” She took that opportunity for a single sharp thrust before resuming the gentle slow pace. “I missed my body being shaped to yours.”

 

He smiled at the sound of her laugh, bringing his hands up to her face so he could wipe her tears away with his thumbs. He was so  _ glad _ that she was crying from happiness and not because of anything else; he’d been terrified that she’d changed her mind or was hurt in some way. 

 

“You do t-” he began, but was cut off by his own moan when she thrust in that way. Okay, yeah, that felt  _ amazing _ . “You do too,” he whispered shakily, kissing at her jaw. “I missed being so close to you… and you’re so damn good at this.” He let out a breathless chuckle, hands returning to her hips and sort of helping her movements, even if said movements weren’t particularly big or fast. 

 

Oh, she  _ loved  _ his moan. It did things to her, and so did his laugh, soft as it was. Her stomach trembled even as he helped her along with the easy movements. “You taught me how,” she reminded him, and she actually quite liked that she’d been trained specifically to his tastes. It meant she was  _ exactly  _ what he wanted in bed.

 

“I love you, Eugene,” she breathed again, and kissed his jaw, his ear. “And I love how you make love to me.”

 

His grin was rather dreamy at her comment. True, he  _ had _ taught her, but a lot of this was her instinct or her initiative. She just…  _ knew _ him so well, had taken the time to learn everything she could and used this knowledge to make him feel absolutely incredible. It was indescribable. 

 

“I love you, too,” he spoke, the hint of a whine in his voice. A shaky breath fell from his lips, and he tried to push his hips up into hers, but it was difficult given that he was sitting. “I’m not really doing much,” he pointed out with a small laugh. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

 

“You’re doing a lot,” she assured him. The sounds he was making were driving her  _ crazy _ . “But if you’re dissatisfied with your amount of activity, you’re more than welcome to switch it up.” She winked at him, then kissed him and tugged on his lower lips with her teeth, letting out a soft snarl.

 

Dissatisfied? That  _ definitely _ wasn’t a word he’d use to describe any aspect of his feelings towards their current situation. No, this was  _ amazing. _ “I’ll bear that in mind.” He’d probably move in a little while, just because he felt bad leaving her to do most of the work. But she’d said out loud that she wanted to be on his lap and in his arms, so here they stayed for now. Her snarl made him grin, his stomach clenching pleasantly. He gave another push with his hips, and then a few more, finding an angle where he could move properly, but still shallow. “Is it good?” he asked, a little breathless. “For you, I mean?” They both knew  _ he _ felt amazing - it was pretty obvious, with all his little sounds. 

 

She whimpered at his thrusts, loving how much deeper he  was inside her, no matter how briefly. “Yes,” she breathed. “ _ Oh,  _ **_yes!_ ** You always fill me so deeply and feel so good!” She dropped her head to his shoulder again, but this time she bit, filling her mouth to help dampen the sounds she really wanted to make right now. But those were sounds for hidden places.

 

The way she spoke, her breathy ‘yes’s… they were gorgeous, and they just added to his own desire. And her bite at his shoulder was amazing, too. It was such a shame that they couldn’t get loud again. Then again, right now wasn’t about loudness or going for it hard. It was about connecting and adoring.

 

So he did a few more of those little pushes up. “I know. I love us so much, Blondie. I love… hmm…” It felt  _ ridiculously  _ good. “… how tight you are. You’re so perfect… oh, Blondie, I love you so much…” Yeah, okay, he was rambling now because this all felt amazing.

 

She grinned a little and laughed softly, her tears finally gone. His rambling was adorable and sexy, but he still said things that made her heart soar. “I love you, too,” she echoed. “I love  _ us _ , too.” And she did. She loved being with him. She loved how harmoniously they worked. She loved the pleasure she both gave and received, and she loved that he was the other person in the equation.

 

“We fit like puzzle pieces,” she smiled, and tugged on his earlobe with her teeth. “Like we were meant to be together.”

 

She bounced a little harder on his cock for a few moments before calming again and just rocking against him.

 

They’d spoken before about how perfect they were for each other, about how they were exactly what the other needed and complemented each other so well. Apparently that extended to the physical, too - regardless of her (previous) lack of experience, being with her was by far the best sex he’d ever had, and not solely because of the emotional aspect, though that did play a big part.

 

When she bit his earlobe and went harder on him, he let out a whine and clutched at her back, her arms, just really needing to hold her as close as he could. He felt like he was drowning in her and that was fine by him. Her scent, her voice, the feeling of her, the warmth and familiarity of her body pressed so his. He leaned in to kiss her again, sucking at her lower lip.

 

His whine earned him a whimper and his kiss a moan. She was so into him, and had been since the beginning. She loved how he grabbed and held, and his hugs never just felt like passion’s embrace. He held her because he liked having her in his arms, and that was where she liked to be.

 

Her breathing spend up, soft but audible panting, and she made each stroke press their bodies together.

 

Her slight panting breaths were so damn cute, and he actually smiled against her lips. “How’d you get to be so cute?” he purred, nuzzling his nose against hers. He pulled back from the kiss to look at her properly, eyes half lidded, lips parted, hands running down her side. Then an arm wound around her waist, and he shifted the two of them, moving to lay her down on the bed with him on top of her. And he kept up that slow, shallow thrusting she’d started, never once breaking eye contact.

 

“I don’t know,” she giggled softly. “I never thought I was cute until you told me I was.”

 

She gazed adoringly at him as he laid her back and resisted the urge to close her eyes as he took control of the situation. She could feel every thrust, slow and shallow as it was, and her back arched a little for a moment. She slid her hands up his arms, smiling into his whiskey-colored eyes. He was a dream come true, and this was perfect. “You’re still my dream, Eugene.”

 

As her back arched, his hips pulled back a little further, then pushed himself deeper without quickening the pace. He smiled right back, leaning down to nudge his nose affectionately against hers and kiss her softly. “And you’re still mine,” he murmured, bringing a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

 

Another kiss, this one lingering before his lips made a slow, delicate trail down to the indent beneath her chin and across her jaw. His other hand found hers, weaving their fingers together and giving a little squeeze, almost like a greeting. He’d always considered holding hands a pretty monumental sign of trust - to let someone else hold onto such an important body part? Yeah, it was a lot more important to him than just a casual gesture.

 

The slightly deeper push got a soft moan from her. She loved being with him like this. The slowness, the gentility, the being each other’s dreams.

 

He’d been absolutely full of the nose nuzzles tonight, and she loved it. Such a simple, romantic gesture, a sign of pure affection. A kiss without being a kiss. She squeezed his hand, loving how much more connected they felt. She remembered the first time, when she’d asked him to hold her hand as he eased into her. Now, holding her hand during sex just added to the experience.

 

Her free hand stroked down his bare back, feeling the shapes of his muscle and sinew. He was so amazing, and he was hers, really and truly.

 

He loved the closeness of all of this, the way that even their hips barely drew back from one another. He nuzzled again, just because he loved the tender affection of it, and then leaned his face into her neck, pressing a few kisses and a light nibble against her skin.

 

It was so slow and so amazing. Her hand stroking his back, their fingers linked, the soft sound of their breathing, not harsh like it often was in these situations but slow and slightly shaky. Oh, he wished he could somehow be physically closer to her. His hips rolled ever so slightly faster against hers, and he brought a hand down to stroke along her side, down her waist and trailing his fingers down her thigh. There, he squeezed gently at the flesh and pulled her leg up against his waist. 

 

She exhaled the softest, “Oh!” and hugged him tightly with her free arm. “I love you!” He was being so tender, and it wasn’t like they’d never made love like this before, but it was so significant this time. She sat up just a little to kiss his shoulder over and over, hooking her ankles together behind his waist and pressing harder against him whenever their hips met fully.

 

Any sound of pleasure she made only served to double his  _ own _ pleasure - her breathy ‘oh’ was no different, and he wound an arm around her waist, squeezing her close to him for a moment or two as his hips pushed deeper. His lips venture lower, smiling against the skin of her neck as she kissed his shoulder; he bit at her throat in return, before licking at the contours of her neck. He sighed contentedly as her legs wound around his waist, pulling them even closer. “I love you, too.” It didn’t matter how many times they’d already said it - it still  _ meant _ something, every single time. 

 

She exhaled another moan, her breathing speeding up, and the bite to her neck made all her muscles tense for a moment - her hand in his, her legs, her arm, even her inner walls briefly squeezed around his cock. He was so amazing, and she’d missed him so much! She was so happy, and so  _ into  _ him, she wanted it to last all night.

 

As she squeezed around his cock, he moaned sharply, clutching at her lower back. “Blondie,” he gasped out, and bit again at her neck, then her jaw. He moved up to her ear, his lips venturing to the smooth skin just behind it. His mouth parted and his teeth dug into her skin, tongue swirling for a moment or two before he sucked and slowly pulled back, leaving a small purple mark behind. Just out of view unless you knew where to look. His hips moved faster now, his stomach jolting as a whole new wave of desire swept through him. Oh, she was gorgeous like this, clutching at him with her arms and legs, looking utterly blissful. He brought up her hand, the one he was holding, and kissed the back of it several times, his eyes slipping closed.

 

His gasp, the way he said her name, the rapid succession of bites, it all made her feel so good, and then he sped up while leaving a mark behind her ear, and she could have cried with joy that he’d marked her again. It had been so long since either of them had marked the other, she was almost forgetting what it was like!

 

Until it all came rushing back just now. 

 

Between that and the new speed, she opened her eyes to see his face again, and he was a sight to behold, his eyes closed and his lips caressing the back of her hand again and again. Well, that was new, and she couldn’t say she didn’t like it!

 

“Eugene…” she breathed adoringly. He was everything, everything completely.

 

The way she breathed his name touched him - he could feel the emotion rising up in his chest, and he let out a trembling breath, his free hand rubbing along her thigh, her butt and back again, feeling her soft skin beneath his calloused palm and thanking whatever Fates were out there that they’d gotten past their fight.

 

His lips at her hand moved, kissing down her index finger now and then turning to trail his lips down her palm. When he reached the thin, sensitive skin at the inside of her wrist, he nipped gently, before soothing the area with his tongue. “We need a day together,” he whispered, nuzzling her palm and leaving more kisses there. His eyes opened to look down at her softly; he rested her palm against his cheek, covered by his own hand. “We need to tell them that we just… need a  _ day  _ together, without duties and drama and everyone shadowing us. It’s not unreasonable…”

 

His hips didn’t stop. They slowed slightly, but his pushes were deeper each time, and he bit his lip at the pleasure of the moment, his eyes screwing shut again and his jaw falling slack around a quiet moan.

 

Rapunzel’s breath hitched at the nip, and her exhale fluttered. She really did feel like she might cry again, especially the way he was looking at her. There was more in his eyes now than there’d been in months, all barriers between them completely dropped at this point.

 

She watched his face as he slowly buried himself in her, over and over, and took great joy from his pleasure. It was a miracle, and it was theirs. Her thumb caressed his cheek, and she smiled as she felt him fill her again and again.

 

“A week,” she countered. “Maybe three days. If even Mom and Dad can take a few days off, then so can we. This is… oh, Eugene…!” She took a moment to compose herself as pleasure rippled through her. “It’s amazing, but I want to be able to reconnect  _ more _ . Just bask in your presence. I’ve  _ missed  _ you, so much!”

 

She took his face in her other hand and brought them together in a sweet but passionate kiss.

 

Her thumb brushing across his cheek prompted him to look at her, eyes gentle, lips slightly parted. She was absolutely  _ stunning,  _ and she was his and she loved him more than anything and he was  _ so damn lucky _ . “Three days…” he repeated. slowly, a smile spreading across his face. It faded as she guided him down for a kiss that he was more than happy to return, pushing a hand gently through her hair. 

 

Three whole, uninterrupted days, just him and her… Now  _ that _ sounded heavenly. And ridiculously overdue. They  _ deserved _ a break - her especially, after all the work and difficult decisions she’d been having to deal with recently. Not to mention their separation. Three days was such a small thing for Rapunzel to ask compared to everything they asked of  _ her _ . 

 

“I missed you, too,” he whispered, trailing his fingertips up her arm, turning his head to kiss her palm. “But think of everything we could do in three days, Blondie… 72 hours of just us.” His voice was low and a little rough, jaw clenching every so often and eyes closing too long on blinks as pleasure coursed through him. 

 

The huskiness in his voice did things to her, and she marveled at how much he could affect her while they were already making love.

 

All the things they could do. They could lay in the sun together, she could paint while he read out loud. They could explore the woods, have a little mini-adventure that had no dire consequences.

Or they could just never get out of bed, except to eat and drink.

 

She grinned and nipped at his beautiful lower lip, then touched her forehead to his, eyes pricking with tears. “We can just be  _ us _ ,” she breathed, her strong emotion evident in her voice. “Just Rapunzel and just Eugene. With no expectations on our shoulders, and no one to answer to.” She  _ really  _ wanted that. She really  _ needed  _ that. She felt like there was always a spotlight on her, now. and even her private moments were plagued with what might come of her public moments.

 

The prospect of  _ going  _ somewhere with her for a full day, just the two of them and maybe even staying overnight? It was exciting. They wouldn’t have to sneak back into the castle - they could stroll back, arm in arm, after taking the break they  _ deserved _ , and had more than earned.

 

They could find an inn. They could finally have that long, luxurious morning lie-in they’d always talked about when they didn’t have to scramble out of bed for fear of being caught together. Her bite made hin grin in return. When she spoke, the emotion in her voice didn’t escape his notice and he smiled again, emotion clear in his eyes as he brought up gentle hands to stroke her face.

 

“We’re gonna make that happen, Sunshine,” he told her firmly, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. They had to. They needed it. Just time to be together  _ just _ as them - they hadn’t had that since their first day together before they’d realised she was the Lost Princess. In fact, he’d been Flynn then. They hadn’t been able to be together as just them since that first day they’d spent in Corona on her birthday, and the boat ride which had been cut short. 

 

“Yes,” she whispered. “I promise.”

 

Maybe her promises didn’t mean as much as they used to, but she  _ really meant it _ . She would argue and yell and just…  _ leave _ , if she had to. But she’d try it nicely first. She didn’t want to have a nice little break, only to return to a hornet’s nest.

 

She tightened her legs around him, then rolled them, letting her hair flow like a golden moonlit curtain beside them as she smiled down at him. Continuing the slow but deep pace, she gazed at him, so in love, so lost in her fortune at having him in her life and in her bed.

 

One hand braced against his chest and the other drew random swirls on his chest. She shook her head slightly in wonder, smiling and so near tears her eyes glistened.

 

“I need you,” she murmured. “You’re my best. You’re my forever.”

 

He still believed her promises. They weren’t the airtight things they once were, but they were still a big deal, and he knew that this one was real. He’d fight right alongside her for their right to a break - and a break  _ alone _ . They didn’t need a babysitter to tag along. They’d protected each other countless times before and would continue to do so.

 

As they rolled, his eyes widened in surprise for a moment or two, blinking up at her. Then he grinned. He let his head rest back against her pillows, his hands reaching up to rest against her waist. His eyes wandered, just gazing at her in her entirety - from watching her slide down on him, lift, and repeat, to roaming up her stomach, her breasts, and to her face. She really did take his breath away. 

 

Her emotion tonight spoke volumes. If he hadn’t already come to terms with everything and been reassured about how much he meant to her, tonight would have certainly done the trick. She adored him so much, and it was so  _ clear;  _ it shot right through him, spreading warmth through his chest and stomach and raising goosebumps on his skin. He’d go his whole life trying to deserve the amount of love she was always willing to give him.

 

“I know,” he whispered back, with a featherlight touch of his fingertips across her lips. “I’m so damn lucky…”

 

She inhaled shakily and closed her eyes, then kissed his fingertips as lightly as he’d touched her lips. And then the tears fell, sliding down her cheeks and glittering like diamonds in the moonlight.

 

“ _ I’m _ the lucky one, Eugene. Thank you for believing in me. Even after everything, you still gave me a chance to prove myself to you.”

 

She brought her hand up to catch his and kissed his palm, then slid her lips up to his fingertips, kissed each one, and when she reached his index finger, she swirled her tongue around it and sucked on it slowly. Simultaneously, her hips stopped the simple up and down motion, and she ground against him, his cock deep inside her. An appreciative hum escaped her, and she brought his other hand up to her breast.

 

Oh, and she was crying, but he  _ knew _ it wasn’t because she was upset. It was because she was anything but. Her delicate kisses to his fingertips were so sweet, and he gave her waist a light, affectionate squeeze.

 

“You don’t need to thank me,” he told her, the slightest frown creasing his brow. His eyes smiled. “But… you’re welcome. It’s my pleasure.” Well, right now it was  _ their _ pleasure; he smirked a little at that. His gaze followed her movements, watching the way she kissed his palm and his fingertips.

 

As she sucked at the index finger, he drew in a breath, swallowing audibly and then letting out a shaky sigh. A soft moan fell from his lips as her movements changed, all deep and grinding and amazing; his head fell back against the pillows, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes. 

 

And then she guided his hand to where she wanted it, and hell if that wasn’t a turn on. He was more than happy to oblige, squeezing her breast in his palm for a moment, only to trail his fingertips very carefully over the sensitive skin, feeling every curve. Then he simply cupped it, the pad of his thumb brushing over her nipple. “You’re so perfect for me, sweetheart.”

 

She thrilled at his moan and adored the glint of extra desire in his eyes. His touch was like magic, whether he was squeezing or barely ghosting his fingertips across puckered pink skin.

 

“I’m so glad,” she breathed, “because you’re perfect for me, too.”

 

She gazed at him and the play of emotions across his face, his half-lidded eyes, his smile, and the way his chocolate hair spilled on his favorite pillow, and she couldn’t help her own smile. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and the most handsome man.”

 

Her smile only caused his to grow. His hand was still up by her mouth, and so he turned it so that he could cup her jaw, brushing his thumb along her lips, then just resting it against her chin. “Guess there’s a whole lot of perfect right here in this bed then, huh?” he mused, lifting a brow playfully at her.

 

Again, he squeezed at her breast and simultaneously, pushed his hips upwards as best as he could, moving himself in her. He  _ needed _ to keep moving at this point, the pleasure not quite starting to peak, but certainly high enough that the thought of slowing or stopping was abhorrent. Everything about this was just… perfect. Them, the mood, the way they touched and the way the lightning kept picking out certain aspects of her, like the little freckles on her nose, or the shine of her hair or the shadow her eyelashes cast against her cheekbones. He adored every tiny detail, and drank it all in.

 

“I’m not sure how it could get any more perfect,” she grinned. “After all, you’re here. That just ramps up the perfection by about five hundred percent.”

 

Her grin fell away at his upward thrust and her jaw slacked a little, her brows lifting as the pleasure coursed through her. She leaned forward, resting her weight on her hands, framing his shoulders. She panted his name and her hips sped up, giving in to the pull of increasing the friction, increasing the passion.

 

So cheesy. So adorable. He  _ beamed _ at her compliment, holding her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. Her reaction to his thrust was amazing; he watched her expression change with the pleasure, his stomach clenching pleasantly. Anytime she was turned on, he was right there with her,  _ especially  _ in the middle of sex. Their pleasure was shared.

 

As she leaned down, he squeezed again at her breast, his movements massaging while his other hand slipped to the back of her neck, pulling her further down so they could kiss. He sucked on her lip, then nibbled at her tongue, whining into her mouth as she sped up the movement of her hips and sent a fresh wave of pleasure through him. “Mm, Sunshine…” he purred, thrusting up again, wanting her to feel as good as she was making  _ him _ feel.

 

Rapunzel whimpered and whined into the kiss as he molded her flesh in his hand. His voice made her feel hot and lightheaded, and it seemed like the time for pure sweetness was over. She suddenly wanted him with a lust that was pushing her past slow and tender.

 

She breathed a curse, arching her back, before diving back in for another kiss. Sunshine, Blondie, sweetheart… he had so many pet names for her, and all she ever called him was Eugene. She tugged on his lip as she pulled back and looked at him with half-lidded eyes once she released. “Do you wish I had a nickname for you? Something to moan besides ‘Eugene’?”

 

Her whimpers only made his hold and his kiss more insistent, his head starting to spin a little and his entire body feeling warmer and warmer. His toes scrunched up as she cursed and arched, and he brought his hands down to her ass, digging blunt nails into her skin and pulling and pushing her a little faster as they kissed. His eyes opened, and he glanced down to watch her pull his lip. Man, that was hot. Her question, though, gave him pause.

 

Huh. Did he? He’d never really thought about it, to be honest, but he was quickly fairly sure of his answer. “No… I like that you moan out my real name. I’ve never heard it from anyone but you…” A smirk tugged at one side of his lips. “But if you wanted to come up with a nickname, I’d be intrigued to hear it.” He wondered if she ever disliked the nicknames he gave her, if there were ever times where she just wanted to hear her real name between moans. 

 

He pulled her closer to him, pulling her a little further up his body - which unfortunately meant he couldn’t stay buried quite as deep inside her, but he could certainly still move. And he did, keeping up his thrusting as he reached up with his head, kissing along her collarbone and then dropping his head down to take her breast into his mouth, his fingers dancing along her spine.

 

She shook her head with a little smile and a breathy, “I’m no good at nicknames,” that was in no way self-deprecating. “I like that I’m the only one who’s ever moaned your real name to you,  _ Eugene. _ ” She emphasized his name with a languid smile that didn’t match the frenetic tone of the current mood.

 

When he pulled her closer, she found her breathing picking up, and she dug her knees into the bed for traction as she moved against him. Every glide, every thrust, made the moment tenser, in the best possible way, and she whispered his name again, the only one to have ever done it. That pleased her immeasurably.

 

”I like that too,” he panted, breath hot against her skin. Sometimes he half-wished there’d been no one before her, only to realise it might be a good thing that one of them had enough experience to be able to guide them both. Still, everyone else paled in comparison to her. It meant so much to him that, while many women may have been with Flynn Rider, only Rapunzel had ever been with Eugene Fitzherbert. And only she ever would be.

 

In response to her whisper of his name, he bit softly at her breast, before sucking at the flesh, his breaths louder than usual, and shaking. Running his hands up and down her back, his kisses ventured back up her chest, her clavicle, her neck, his tongue darting out here and there as he made his way up. With a quick snap of his hips (and an audible wet slapping sound that he loved), he’d pushed himself back into her properly, deep as he could sit, and he growled unintelligibly under his breath, his eyes darkened with desire as he looked up at her. Hand tangled in her hair, he pulled her down to sink into a needy, passionate kiss that made him light-headed.

 

It felt like all the air left her with that thrust, and with it all came the word, “ _Fuck!_ ” It was a good thing he kissed her then, or she might not have been able to stop the loud moan that wanted out. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging from both sides as she kissed him greedily, moving her hips faster, harder, the wet sound getting louder and more consistent. It sounded so _good!_ _They_ sounded so good! And it was turning her on, harder and faster and hotter, and she knew the end was nigh.

 

She exhaled noisily through her nose, desperate panting as she chased their climax, needing to feel him empty himself inside her, needing to know she’d brought him to such a glorious release.

 

Her swear brought a moan from him, and only encouraged  _ more _ of those thrusting movements. The way she kissed him made him moan desperately into her mouth, feeling the way she pulled almost painfully at his hair in her desperation and her hips pounding against his. The sound of them together was amazing; the sound of her panting only made it even better, and his arms wound around her, just clutching her close to him, his eyes screwed shut as their tongues tangled and their hips moved wildly. 

 

He was close, now, and he thought she might be, too. Part of him was desperate to reach that finish line and for their passion to explode and leave them in a state of euphoria - the other part of him never wanted this to end. It’d been such an amazing reconciliation. He hadn’t felt this close to her for weeks. 

 

“Oh…. Blondie!” he yelped, a hand clutching at her shoulder blade, the other at the back of her head. His teeth gritted, trying to hold back the long, loud moan that kept building up inside him; he kissed her again to try and release it, all messy teeth and tongues and loud breaths. 

 

Oh no, his voice was too much! She couldn’t hold on any longer with him gasping out her name for her, and with his hand desperately trying to find purchase in her feverish skin.

 

“Cum for me,” she begged. “Cum  _ with  _ me!”

 

And that was it for her. Her body seized and trembled and she pulled from the kiss to bite his shoulder and moan against him, her walls spasming against his rigid and desperate dick. She wanted so desperately to be loud, but she knew this would have to do, and her moan became a whimper and practically a sob of overwhelming emotion.

 

This was perfect. He was perfect. And they were well and truly reconciled now.

 

Her begging was all it took.

 

He was, as usual, so ready to do whatever she wanted, whatever would make her happy and this? Well, this just happened to be wonderfully, amazingly mutual and incredible. “A-ah!” With her lips gone, there was nothing to muffle the yell, and he buried his face in her hair, eyes tightly shut and his hands curled tight, one in her hair and the other at her waist.

 

His orgasm seemed to last forever, his hips thrusting up into hers as he came into her, as they came  _ together _ . It seemed so fitting, considering this had been all about a reconciliation, and dismantling that one final barrier  _ together.  _ His heart beat wildly, his skin sticky and sweaty, his brain shutting off. All he was was the pleasure in his dick.

 

He vaguely registered sensation elsewhere as he finally finished. The satisfying ache of his muscles, the feeling of her weight on his torso, the dizzy,  _ amazing _ feeling in his head. Oh  _ man _ . His eyes remained closed, his skin flushed and sweaty, and his breathing fast as he tried to regain control of it.

 

She couldn’t tell if it was one deliciously, fantastically prolonged orgasm, or if it was several, popping in such rapid succession that they ran together. But it didn’t really matter, either. All that mattered was this feeling, and  _ them _ .

 

As she came down slowly, she became aware of an ache in her jaw, so she loosened it, and discovered a ring of teeth marks in the meat of his shoulder. She almost apologized, but the fact was, she wasn’t sorry. She was glad to be leaving him with a likely bruise. She kissed the wound several times before just resting against his chest, listening to their breathing and heartbeats subside.

 

And she smiled. She grinned like an idiot. This was amazing.  _ He  _ was amazing, and she loved him so much.

 

“So…” she panted. “Is three days going to be enough?”

 

It was a completely and utterly  _ exhausting  _ orgasm, and any hopes he’d originally had of maybe getting another round or two in there were gone. No, he’d need to just lie here still for a very long time. And maybe sleep soon. 

 

But there were different types of exhaustion and this type? It was the happy type of exhausting. The  _ blissful  _ kind that left him feeling like jelly, left his mind in a slightly clouded state of euphoria and his body relaxing into the comfiest mattress he’d ever been on in his life. He was aware of a dull pain in his shoulder, but again, the good kind. It just meant that she’d left a mark that was  _ real _ , that was quite literally there because of extreme passion rather than marking for the sake of it. He’d like looking at that bite later on and remembering. It was bound to last a couple of days.

 

A small, weak chuckle passed his lips at her words. “ _ No  _ amount of time would be enough,” he breathed back. His arms felt heavy as he brought his hands up to softly trace random patterns across her back. “But three is a start…”

 

If she loved his voice when he was in the midst of passion, she loved it as much but completely differently when he was exhausted, his breathy chuckle, and his fingers dancing on her dewy skin.

 

“Eugene, I’m so, so very much in love with you,” she smiled.

 

She was happy and floaty and felt so close to him and so sure of absolutely everything right now.

 

He blinked sleepily up at her, a gentle smile easing across his features. “Yeah?” he mumbled, and brought up a hand to stroke along her cheek. “I love you. So much.”

 

It was all so  _ comfortable _ now, and he found himself more and more ready for sleep by the moment. Before, it had felt like they had unfinished business by now it was settled, and everything was normal again. This was the old them. “Y’wanna sleep, Blondie?” Because he did. It wasn’t that late, but man, was he tired. And he wasn’t willing to leave in the morning, either. She’d have to do a lot of convincing to get him to go anywhere.

He shifted her, ever so slowly pulling her off of him with a low breath, and then letting her snuggle back against his chest. He stroked her arms, her hair, her back, just wanting to touch her in all those tender, affectionate ways.

 

“Sure,” she smiled softly. She hissed softly as he pulled from her, but settled quickly, not willing to be apart from him, even by a hair’s breadth.

 

“And hey, if we fall asleep now, we’ll probably wake up early, which will give us more time.” Time for a bit of a lie-in, and anything else they might have in mind. Time to discuss how to attack asking for three days off.

 

She lay a trail of soft kisses across his chest.

 

”I’m not going anywhere,” he mumbled, eyes already half-closed. “I’ll just hide under your covers when they come in. Boom, invisible. Or you’ll have to drag me out of the room.”

 

Her kisses to his chest were very welcome and his eyes closed fully, letting out a long, slow breath and playing with her hair. Comfortable as he was here, he’d much rather sleep under the covers than on top of them, so he reluctantly shuffled to sit up, trusting that she’d quickly follow and they wouldn’t have to be apart for too long. Shifting her off of him - and immediately missing her familiar weight - he shimmed under the covers, resting back against the pillows with a content sigh. And he looked for her, reaching out an arm.

 

Him actively reaching for her was such a welcome sight, and it was moments before she was burrowed under the covers and on top of him again, pressing her lips to his in a happy kiss that had way more energy behind it than she did.

 

“Good,” she smiled. “We’re pretty good at hiding you in my closet. We’ve had practice,” she reminded.

 

Wow, he was here. It wasn’t like he hadn’t snuck into her room at all in the last two months, but it had always been innocent sleeping. This was the first time their bare skin would be pressed together for the entire night.

 

As she settled against him again, he smiled contentedly and let his eyes close - they quickly reopened in surprise at her energetic kiss, and he smiled wider into it, resting a hand on the back of her head. “… I seem to remember not having a lot of say in that,” he countered, raising a brow. She’d knocked him out and then shoved him haphazardly into a closet. He’d hardly call that practice. 

 

It felt so nice to be snuggled up in bed with her, skin-on-skin with the prospect of a long, restful night ahead of them. He was sure he’d sleep better than ever now that they’d reconnected in every single way and were stronger than they’d been for months. He brushed his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. reclining back into the pillows with his eyes closed and a completely blissful expression on his face. 

 

“Trust me, you fit really well,” she assured him. “… Eventually. And hey, if your conscious, it’ll go even better!”

 

She sighed contentedly, exhaling her peace against his skin. His heart had settled down by now, and its sound soothed her like it always did, more so than anyone else’s heartbeat. His was the only one that she’d ever heard stop, then restart again, and so hearing it beat meant the world to her.

 

_ Eventually _ . He didn’t like to think about how many tries it had taken for her to get him into that closet, and how many of his bones had been broken in the process. - he already knew about the fingers. 

 

His arms wrapped loosely around her; his fingertips traced shapes on her shoulder. “I mean it, Blondie… I don’t want to leave.” He knew he’d have to. He knew there’d be hell to pay if they were found in bed together in the morning, sans clothes. But the thought of getting up out of bed, moving away from her…? It was going to be so hard. He sighed, deciding to simply  _ not _ think about it any more. Instead, he drew her closer, pressing his lips to the top of her head and stroking her hair. “I love you.” A yawn pulled his mouth wide, and he nuzzled into her hair with a contented sigh. 

 

She was still and quiet a moment, thinking about the consequences versus the rewards of him just… not leaving. “I know,” she answered softly. “I really don’t want you to, either.”

 

One hand was resting somewhere idly in the vicinity of his shoulder and face and hair all at the same time, and those fingers twitched involuntarily, brushing against his skin as he kissed her hair.

 

“I love you too,” she smiled. And it felt so true. So much truer than it had in a while, not because they’d ever stopped loving each other, but because they hadn’t completely reconnected until now. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow morning is future us’s problem.”

 

It was so easy to do as she asked. He was exhausted and happy and euphoric and ready to sleep for  _ hours and hours _ . They had a long time ahead of them before they had to part ways. But when they did? They’d be happier. They’d had a happy month, yes, but there had been  _ something  _ missing, some slight distance still between them. That had vanished tonight.

 

He felt himself drifting, and his voice was barely there as he whispered to her before falling into the most restful sleep he’d had in months.

 

“G’night, Rapunzel.”

 

“Good night, Eugene.”


End file.
